Unorthodox Collaboration
by SadEcho
Summary: Takes place after the Marineford War. Law has just been accepted into the ranks of the Warlords. But things are never that easy. He ends up working with someone he least expected. Basically my version of the untold story of Law joining the warlords :P It is mostly humorous, but with a serious edge. Piss your pants laughing material right here :) would have both categories be humor.
1. Chapter 1

**Unorthodox Collaboration**

**Set post Marineford, yet after the two year time skip. I do not own any One Piece characters.**

**-X+O+X-**

Long corridors of flawless granite, bleached to a lighter hue, were filled to the brim with bustling marines. Clinking of hammers and orders being barked out, the sounds of construction, still managed to make their way through the fortified walls. Many of the younger cadets' youth was being taken advantage of, the result often sending them to run reports between the admirals and foremen.

Every inch of the building, undergoing reconstruction and modifications, swarmed with activity. The reestablishment, and relocation, of Marine Headquarters was a sight to behold. Walls were torn down, new ones taking their place or making way for a new design. What was the G-1 base was being overwritten to take the fortified form of the heart of the marines. Marines, from the lowest cabin boy to the strongest vice admiral, worked alongside construction workers, working with resilient determination, reveling in the task of renewal and recovery, despite their devastating defeat at Marineford.

Their lost had cost them, but the survivors came back with a different mindset. The horrors of full out war had scratched its place in the minds of the young, and rehashed the hard facts for the experienced. Watching comrades die before you was hard, but the random eyes of a stranger staring at you with their last breath was unsettling.

Why would someone, you have never even seen before, be able to disturb you in such a profound way? You were ordered to kill without knowing anything about them; if they had families, or children waiting for them at home. But, what if they were murderers, thieves, slave traders, drug dealers, or rapists? Or, could they have been heroes? Blessings to the people around them, a teacher or a mentor, someone with outstanding morals, a person who deserved to live and you had no right to end their life. Once they were dead, you would never know.

Those few that came back from the war were changed, but whether they were lucky or not was hard to say. There was no clear answer. Both sides had come away with losses, but a burning will had been ignited inside both marines and pirates.

One Piece was out there. The legend was confirmed. Thousands of pirates, who had long given up the dream, picked it up again. Those who had always pursued it renewed their efforts with rekindled hope. Even the Underworld was stirring.

The sudden surge of activity only flared up the marines into taking up action.

* * *

A steady patter, the sound of heeled shoes against the marble floor, made the workers pause and look up at the alien tapping. Their owner hurried down the hallway, clusters of marines scattering in panic to get away from the irate looking man. Two marines cowered off the side, exchanging words in hushed tones.

"I-Isn't that the newest warlord?..." a pink-haired marine youth murmured in unease.

His taller companion, a long-haired blond with strange shades, was bent into a near-crouch to cower behind the other. Teeth chatter loudly in his mouth, he managed to answer, "Y-y-yes…that's T-Trafalgar Law. The rookie pirate who brought 100 hearts from pirates to join the warlords! He is a creep! Don't go near him!" The blonde shrilled out a distressed noise, as the man in question stopped in the middle of the hallway, sneezing loudly into the crook of his arm. The unexpected actions caused several marines to jump into the air, squeaking loudly in a mixture of horror and surprise, and in some instances falling over in a total faint.

This man, Trafalgar Law, was relatively tall, in normal human standards when you didn't consider the inhuman statures of most of the admirals and other warlords, and sported a spotted furred cap that spoke of his origins from North Blue. He must have traveled from somewhere cold recently, or that is what the long black coat suggested. From what they knew of him, he was the captain of the Heart Pirates, and a doctor. But the long nodachi on his back made it hard to believe the man practiced medicine. However, the title 'Surgeon of Death' didn't fail to compliment both of the possible professions. For some reason the newly initiated warlord continued to stand in the hallway, looking this way and that for an unknown reason.

The pink-haired teen gulped loudly, his Adams apple bobbing in apprehension. "100 pirate hearts? Isn't that like cannibalism, or something?" Law was still a pirate after all.

"Moron! That's for _eating_ people, not killing them," his friend hissed under his breath, still too afraid to raise his voice higher than a whisper.

A booming voice behind their back had both of the unfortunate youths jolting up in terror. "Oiii! Coby! Helmeppo! What are doing standing in the middle of the road for, when you could be training!?"

They shrieked out loud, fighting with their fight-or-flight instincts as they spun around on their heels to face the source of the thunderous roar. "Vice Admiral Garp-san," the young marines squeaked in unison, snapping to attention, still quaking in their skin, as they realized who it was.

"Oi oi, enough of that! I'm retired now! That's Instructor Garp to you!" he corrected, shooting them a good natured smile that crinkled the crows' feet that radiated out from his dark cobalt eyes. "Now, what's going on? Why are you both hiding behind this corner?"

Being the braver of the two, Coby quickly replied, "The new warlord, Trafalgar Law, is here!" He pushed his blue specs further onto his bandana covered forehead, waiting for the older man to respond.

Monkey D. Garp twisted his pinky finger inside of his nostril, making a low hum of consideration as he tried to recall where he had heard that name before. "Hmm…Trafalgar...Trafalgar…OH!" He stopped his nose excavation long enough to slam his fist into an open palm. "He's the kid who saved my grandson! This is perfect! I've been meaning to have a word with him!"

Helmeppo and Coby clearly did not approve. They wildly shook their heads, hissing dire warnings, and frantically waved their arms to try and ward the marine instructor from such a crass idea. But their efforts went unnoticed as the older man simply chuckled and walked past them. Staring off after their instructor, they both sniffled and wiped away the faint traces of their tears, hoping this wouldn't be the last time that they saw the man who had trained them.

* * *

Trafalgar Law stood in the middle of marine headquarters, watching apathetically as the marines at work scurried away from his presence. At least they weren't trying to arrest him, which was far more annoying. So far, that was one of the better perks of being a warlord. Unfortunately, his new position also required him to attend a meeting. Other warlords and marine officials would be present to seal the deal. Once this ordeal was over, he hoped to never attend one of these dreaded gatherings again.

But bringing things back to the matter at hand, Law was lost. But it was certainly not his fault. If anything it was the incredibly lousy instructions given to him by Captain T-Bone. The zombie-like captain had caught both his medical and macabre interest. But sadly he wasn't able to perform tests in the middle of a marine building, not without ample scrutiny, so Law was unhappy to say he had been left in the dark regarding whether the man was in a true undead state or not.

At first he had been wary of asking any marine for directions, but the man, T-Bone, had been earnest enough in helping him. But between the skeletal man's dramatic explanations, worrying over the injuries of the workers, and stopping to assist with construction every spare moment, he eventually had given up and wandered through the base alone.

Now he was left standing here, hopefully not looking like a lost puppy. His pride had already suffered enough when he had bothered to ask a marine for directions. It didn't matter if it was directions for a _marine_ base; Law had still resorted to asking _someone_.

Suddenly an unbearable itch-like sensation formed from behind his eyes, causing Law to let out a loud sneeze that he redirected into the inside of his elbow. 'Ughh, someone must be talking about me. But it can't be helped. I'm late for that stupid meeting.' Blatantly ignoring the marines, who suddenly squeaked or keeled over onto the floor for some strange reason, Law scratched at the back of his head. He glanced down the hallways branching from his current one, searching for one that possibly led to the meeting place.

"Ooiii! Trafal-kid!"

Laws eyebrow twitched violently at the strange distortion of his name, but he managed to reign in his emotions, turning with a stoic expression to see who was calling. A broad-chested man with gray hair, a stitched scar over his left eye, and an all too familiar blinding smile on his face, was fast approaching. His resemblance to his grandchild was startling, both in personality and the wide grin dominating the tanned face.

Gray eyes narrowing in recognition, Law slowly voiced, "…Vice Admiral…Monkey D. Garp-ya?"

"Instructor Garp now", the gray-haired man replied, his smile widening even more as he let out a hearty laugh. "Bwahahahaha!" He patted the younger man on the back, not noticing how his strength had the lanky man staggering, and pulled Law in for a crushing one armed hug.

The marines passing by had stopped dead in their tracks, jaws dropping and staring bugged-eyed at the unusual scene. From their point of view, they could clearly see Law's countenance straining in an aghast frown over the taller man's broad shoulder. Due to the graying haired man's strength, the poor doctor was lifted a few inches off the ground. Former vice admiral Garp seemed to fail to notice, or care.

Leaning over to whisper into the rigid warlord's ear, Garp whispered, "Just between you and me, how is my grandson?"

Slowly inhaling to calm himself, Law softly murmured, "He was alive when I last saw him."

"That's my boy!"

Not deterred at all by the vague response, Garp gave off a loud guffaw, setting the younger man down, and moved his muscular arm to wrap around the surgeons shoulders in a friendly manner. Only then did he notice the others stiffness. Garp took in how Law was seemingly paralyzed to the spot, his expression overly tense and his posture abnormally rigged. Choosing to ignore it, he switched to clasping the dark-haired man by both shoulders, beaming at him before asking, "So, what are you doing standing around? Aren't you supposed to be at the meeting, being a newly appointed warlord and all?"

Grimacing, Law simply nodded. Garp grinned in return and started dragging the younger man behind him, leading the other by keeping a strong grip on Law's sleeve. "Well come on, they will be starting any minute now! If we hurry you won't be too late. Bwahahahaa!"

The marines watched the two go, caught between relief and disbelief. Also, should they be concerned or amazed that The Hero of the Marines was conversing, and leading, the Surgeon of Death around like it was an everyday occurrence...

* * *

'I can see why the D family is so greatly feared', Trafalgar Law grimly thought to himself, using intense focus to stay on his feet. Monkey D. Garp was setting a hazardous pace through the marine base, running through the constant rivers of marines like they were ghosts that could be stepped through.

Despite his numerous attempts to free himself, Law's sleeve remained imprisoned in Garp the Fists iron hold.

Garp trudged through the marine base, some people called out greetings to him, only to stop when they saw who the grayed marine was toting behind him. Just as they rounded another corner, Garp gave a sudden exclamation upon seeing a familiar colleague. "Oii! Vice Admiral Vergo! Come here you great bamboo wielding panda."

The tall man in question had his back facing Garp and Law. But when he heard that all too familiar voice he facepalmed himself in exasperation. That was when he realized he still had a bit of lunch stuck to his dark lightning bolt shaped sideburns. Peeling away the bit of the sandwich bread stuck to his face, Vergo relocated it to his mouth to finish it off, turning on his heel to face the incoming former vice admiral. The sight of the broad-chested man running up to him only confirmed Vergo's suspicions of the identity of the person yelling his name. "Whar es et Gwarp-shan", he mumbled around his mouthful, swallowing the rest of his sandwich while wiping the crumbs off with the back of his hand.

Skidding to a halt in front of the man, Garp grinned widely. "What brings you here? I thought you were supposed to be at the G-5 base?"

Sighing dejectedly, Vergo replied, "I'm afraid I was ordered to make my semiannual report in person this time. After that's done I'm heading right back to G-5." He paused, looking down as he noticed something strange in the older man's hand. Pointing with a finger, he directed Garp's gaze to the dark object. "What is that in your hand?"

"Ehh?" Garp looked down, clearly puzzled at the odd statement. "UWAAHH!? He was just behind me!" He yelled in disbelief, eyes threatening to pop out of his skull, and uncontained snot dripping from his nose as he held the abandoned winter jacket to his face to examine it.

"…Is that Law jacket?" Vergo intoned slowly, taking the fabric in his own hands and showing the ex-vice admiral the jolly rodger depicted on the long coat.

"Tsk, yeah. Where did the kid go..? Don't tell me he got lost." Garp scratched at the back of his head, humming to himself in thought. "Oiiii~! Trafal-kid! Where did you go!?" he boomed out, startling several marines around him.

* * *

Panting heavily, Law was crouching behind a corner. During his quick retreat, he had forgotten to breathe. In all honesty he was hiding. Yes he, the Surgeon of Death, was reduced to huddling behind a turn in the marine hallways. But Law had never expected to see Vergo here.

When Garp had started to drag him towards the vice admiral, Law had thought that it was all over. But no, his clever brain had come up with the perfect method of escape; even if it had been at the terrible cost of his winter coat.

_Upon seeing Vergo, the one who had violently beat him during his adolescence, among other things; Law had been ready to beat the living shit out of Garp just to get away from that man. Like a wildcat chewing its own leg off to escape from a steel trap. Seeing as how that wasn't an option, he had desperately maneuvered his entire body out of the coat with a series of wild twists and squirming. Luckily Garp had been too intent on greeting his colleague to notice Law hightail his ass out of there the moment he was free of his coat._

Sighing heavily, Law looked up. He was surprised to see two young marines, a lanky blond and a pink-haired youth, cowering against the wall. They looked like they were about to scream, so Law raised a tattooed finger to both of his lips and made a shushing noise.

_Coby and Helmeppo had possessed just enough courage to follow their old instructor, albeit at a great distance. They simply could not bring themselves to watch ex-vice admiral Garp be in the company of such a dangerous pirate captain. However, they were not expecting for the newly appointed warlord to come blazing down the corridor like a bat straight out of hell, and certainly not around the exact corner they had hid themselves behind._

Law was further appalled when both of the marine youths collapsed backwards in a dead faint, legs twitching in the air like squashed bugs. 'What the hell…I didn't even do anything…yet.' If he looked hard enough, he could have sworn he saw their souls starting to escape.

"What are you doing, Doctor Trafalgar?"

Stiffening in shock, Law slowly lifted his head towards the source of the voice, whose tone was dark and composed. Working his way up from the boots, the white-violet pants fasted with a belt, the dark open jacket revealing a muscular torso, and a pale angular face framed in dark hair, Law looked up into the face of the newcomer. Sharp golden eyes pierced him to the spot from underneath the shade of a broad-brimmed hat, staring at him with crippling intensity.

Somehow Law managed to retain his grave countenance, but inwardly he was having a bit of a meltdown. 'HOLY FUCKING SHIT, ITS HAWKEYE MIHAWK!', his inner self screamed. 'SHIT SHIT SHIT! FUCKING SHIT!'

Mihawk arched an eyebrow when the doctor didn't immediately respond. His sharp eyes picked up the faint traces of sweat, beading on the side of the younger man's forehead. What was the possible reason for the newly appointed warlord to be crouching in the middle of a hallway, rather suspiciously near two unconscious marines?

Law noticed the older man giving him an odd look, and with a sick jolt he recalled the two catatonic marine youths currently prone on the ground. Making a clearing of the throat noise, Law stood up and brushed the nonexistent dirt off his spotted jeans. Pulling on the edge of his black and yellow hoodie, he straightened it out as he composed himself. Steel met gold as Law finally allowed eye contact.

"I was inspecting the possibility of myocardial infarction occurring in these two marines."

It wasn't exactly a lie, but not entirely the truth either.

A loud shout of "Oiii Trafal-kid" interrupted the pair. Law dropped his serious expression, allowing a look of scarcely obscured shock to spread across his face.

Crossed his arms against his chest, Mihawk looked at the tattooed warlord with morbid curiosity. "Are you being harassed by Garp?"

"Somewhat…"

"Mhh… I see."

"There you are Trafal-Kid! Oi, Hawkeyes, are you running late too? Bwahahahahaa! You two are really hopeless!"

'Che…He's one to be talking…'

'These damn Monkey's.'

"I'd thought I had lost you there for a moment Trafal-kun. You should really keep up if you get lost so easy," Garp chuckled warmly, and handed Law his dark coat. "Here, you managed to leave your coat behind! You not only can get yourself lost, but your clothes! Bwaahahahahahaaa!" His own joke had the ex-vice admiral keeling over in laughter, tears forming at the corner of his eyes, as he beat a closed fist on his knee.

Before either of the dark-haired warlords could come up with a respone, Vergo stepped forward, from his position of following behind Garp. "Congratulations on your new position, Law", the vice admiral said, no real feeling behind his words, with the same indifferent expression as he stood with his arms folded behind his back.

Barely suppressing his urge to snarl out loud, Law replied monotonously, "Thank you…Vergo."

Dracule 'Hawkeye' Mihawk watched the exchange with mild interest. He could sense the tense waves rolling off the younger warlord. Invisible sparks seemed to crackle between vice admiral Vergo and Law. His sharp eyes took in how Law's goateed jaw clenched, his gray eyes slightly narrowing, twitching in the tattooed fingers, and the dark eyebrows angling downward in a subtle slope. 'Clearly these two have met before, and not in the friendliest circumstances,' he concluded. Because of the master swordsman's almost inhuman level of intuition and perception, what Vergo did next did not surprise Mihawk.

An almost inaudible growl emitted from Vergo. It was a deep rumbling in the chest that was the precursor to the commanding shout from the vice admiral. "That's Vergo… _SAN!_"

Only his observation Haki saved Law from the sudden thrust of Vergo's bamboo weapon to his face. He leaned just enough to the side that the weapon overshot its goal, burying into the granite wall past his shoulder, and causing a network of long cracks and fissures to form around its Haki infused blacken chute. Just as Law was getting ready to pull his nodachi from his back, a small withered hand gripped Vergo's ear, viciously tugging at the cartilage.

"Vergo-san! We are trying to _build _here! Not cause more work for our hard working marines!" a small elderly lady yelled scornfully. She twisted her grip on the taller man's ear, eliciting a pained yowl from her fellow vice admiral. Her aged whitened hair was pulled back in a bun, small strands framing each side of her face.

When Garp started guffawing at them, she snapped her head towards him, startling the marine instructor with her sharp glare. "And you! Garp, you need to file your reports on how the training is progressing! Don't think for a second I'll let you two slack off!" With that said, she soon had both of the tall men stooping over to better accommodate the shorter elderly woman, who, with a firm hand, was gripping onto each of their ears with startling force for her age.

"Granny Tsuru~…"Garp whined pathetically, struggling to keep on his feet as the white-haired woman pulled the two men after her.

Vergo san looked like a picture of dismay, even with his dark shades obscuring his eyes. "Tsuru-san, I was just on my way to make my report but-"

Tsuru quickly interrupted. "No but's mister! If you two don't get your work done by the end of today, I'll hang you both out to dry tonight!"

Both of warlords were finally left on their own to stare after the two men being manhandled by an older woman. Each of them finally allowed a heavy sigh of relief as the terrible trio made their way down the hallway.

Smirking at the oddity of sharing a sigh with his older counterpart, Law's tired eyes once again met with the other mans. He couldn't help but grimace at the first impression the hawk-eyed man probably had of him now. This was not how he wanted the greatest swordsman to first perceive him.

"We should get going", intoned Mihawk, gesturing with a small tilt of his head for Law to follow.

Eye widening in surprise, Law quickly hurried after him, pulling his returned coat on as they made their way towards the warlords summoning. Mihawk was just a few inches taller than him, but the older warlord was moving quickly. He was grateful the other hadn't made a comment on him 'getting lost'.

Damn Garp. Encounters with the D. family were proving to be extemely odd.

**-X+O+X-**

**Sub Authors Note:**

**Dude, review please :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Unorthodox Collaboration**

**Authors Note:**

***Fleet Admiral Sakazuki goes under the alias Akainu.**

***Dr. Vegapunk is the one who converted Kuma into a cyborg.**

***den den mushis = transponder snails**

***Flashbacks in italics.**

***The banana spider is real. So yes, you should be scared.**

***Yes, I did try to make you pee yourself this chapter.**

**Ch.2**

**-X+O+X-**

The collection of marines and warlords watched Fleet Admiral Akainu fume silently in his seat. Many of them were starting to wonder if the magma man would spontaneously erupt like a volcano, given his devil fruit powers and the man's mounting dark mood. As interesting as this theory sounded, no one really wanted to test it out and end up a scorched pile of ashes, so they just settled for watching.

Well everyone was watching except for a man in a yellow pinstriped suit, whose face was currently buried into the newspapers comic section. A surprisingly obnoxious giggle erupted out of the yellow suited man, Admiral Kizaru. That might have been what sent Akainu over the edge.

Suddenly Akainu broke his silence, unexpectedly growling out, "Kizaru, Doflamingo, and Vice Admiral Smoker…GET YOUR GOD DAMNED FEET OFF THE TABLE!" Corded sinews bulged from his tanned neck and jaw, and the wrinkles around his forehead and eyes creased in warning.

Admiral Kizaru jolted backwards, startled out of his important reading. The sudden movement tipped his chair over, which had been balanced on the back two legs. He crashed into the ground with a loud bang. Kizaru's raised his head up; his amber lensed shades were slightly awry. What was visible of his dark eyes stared with an out-of-focus expression. Blinking briefly in confusion, the admiral scratched at the side of his head as he tried to remember where he was exactly. Then his eyes widened in a sudden shock of horror. He was in a damned meeting. Kizaru's lips formed a pout as he groaned, "Sakazuki…is so scaarryyy~…" Sighing in defeat, he returned his seat to an upright position, reluctantly dumping himself back into his chair. The admiral leaned an elbow on the table, propping his head against an open palm while he cleaned out his ear with a finger.

"Awww, this new Fleet Admiral is no fun", the pink-feathered coated man, Doflamingo, complained. But he somewhat complied, if only to impede the oncoming eruption. He got up from his position of squatting on the long meeting table, and transplanted himself to perch on the back of his large chair with his feet planted on the arm rests. Despite the other looks of clear disapproval, he maintained his wide smile. Telling a ten foot tall, probably insane, and outrageous man like him that he was still sitting wrong, according to normal social standards, was probably pointless.

Smoker merely grunted, and moved his feet from where they were resting and onto the floor. Reclining further back into his chair, he puffed out a long stream of smoke, hoping his two cigars would have enough nicotine to get him through this meeting. 'I miss Tashigi', he thought morosely. 'Tashigi let me put my feet anywhere. _Anywhere_…'

All of the men present in the meeting room didn't fail to notice the faint blush that ran across Vice Admiral Smoker's face, which was set in an uncharacteristically vacant expression. His eyes were somewhat glazed over, staring at something they couldn't see, and worst of all the corner of his mouth not inhabited by cigars was curling up in a small smile. Everyone chose not to make a comment on it. The possibilities that they came up with of for such a reaction leaned towards something of a more disturbing nature, which they all silently agreed was better left alone.

The door groaning open shifted everyone's attention. Two dark figures quickly stepped inside. Akainu, looked up to see Hawkeye Mihawk glide through with Trafalgar Law close behind. He had not been fleet admiral for very long, but even he knew that two warlords showing at the same time was highly unlikely. From the past meetings he had attended, all the warlords seemed to share a certain dislike for one another. "You are late", rumbled the Hawaiian-shirted fleet admiral.

"It could not be helped. Instructor Garp deemed it necessary to harass us," Mihawk replied flatly.

Grimacing in exasperation, Akainu dragged out a long sigh, gripping the bridge of his nose to stop a looming headache. "Haahh….I should have known that moron would continue to cause trouble, even after retirement he is still the same."

Mihawk lingered at the entrance, looking at the meeting tables seating arrangements. Admiral Kizaru sat on the fleet admirals left, and Vice Admiral Smoker was on his right. Doflamigo was next to Kizaru with the cyborg Kuma sitting like a statue across from him.

There were four seats at the end still available. Due to Boa Hancock's absence, and Blackbeard's betrayal, there were two extra empty seats at the free head of the table. Mihawk decided to sit on the end, because it was the farthest he could get from Doflamingo.

But as Mihawk made his way to the end of the table, it seemed as if it the place was originally meant for only one person to be seated at the end. They had wedged two chairs into the space, probably thinking they wouldn't have to get a new table…those cheap bastards.

Glancing at the young surgeon, who had paused at the entryway behind him, the master swordsman decided to give the younger man a break and chose the seat on Doflamingo's side of the table. The empty chair between them would have to do for his much needed personal space.

Law glanced at the collection of men sitting in the room. His steel eyes were immediately drawn to his former colleague, Doflamingo, who was flashing him an insanely huge smile. Just barely, Law resisted the urge to give the blonde warlord the middle finger. Instead he settled with a dark frown. It was rather unfortunate that he had to play 'nice' in front of the government; at least until his warlord status was confirmed. Just as he was taking his first step forward, Laws entire body froze.

'Oh – fucking – shit…'

Fleet Admiral Akainu frowned as he looked at the surgeon, who had paused in mid-step. "What are you doing!?Sit down already Trafalgar!" He watched in confusion as the young man started shaking in place, the spotted hat shadowing his face. Laws tattooed fists were clenched at his side and his teeth were visibly gnashing together.

Admiral Kizaru made of noise of consideration, and unexpectedly hummed, "You mad bro?"

Mihawk let out a tired sigh, covering his face with a pale hand. The hawk-eyed warlord knew exactly what was happening. 'Doflamingo has always had the most heinous ways of personally initiating fellow warlords', the swordsman thought morosely.

Struggling against the invisible puppet strings, Law fought against Doflamingo's ability until his muscles shook from the strain. Law managed to look up long enough to glare at the pink-feathered warlord, who was twirling his fingers and looking smug. When he opened his mouth to give the blond a piece of his mind, his tongue was abruptly seized and pulled out of his mouth by an invisible force.

A surprised gasp came from most of the men, excluding Mihawk, who like always had been expecting this long before the others. Did Trafalgar Law, The Surgeon of Death, just stick his tongue at them?

Kuma also continued to sit in silence, but his cybernetic brain was stirring at the anomaly that was Law. 'Trafalgar Law, age 26. Possible attempt at insult by displaying the muscular organ of the mouth detected. The action does not match the statistics associated with age. Calculating probability of impaired mental capacity. Threat is minimal. Response is not needed. Remain on Standby.'

"Tra…fal…GARRR!" Akainu roared, standing up so suddenly his chair screeched backwards. 'How dare that little shit stick his tongue out me!? If this is how goes about asking to be a warlord he is more insane than I thought!'

"Fuufuufufufufufu!" Doflamingo exploded into a caterwaul of laughter, holding his arms around his sides as he continued his evil cackles.

Upon realizing the situation, Akainu whipped his head around to fix the pink-feathered warlord with a look so intense the blond actually lost his smile.

"Doflamingo…"

Everyone turned in their seats to stare at the speaker. It was Law, who had been freed of his bonds and had silently moved to stand next to the empty seat near Mihawk. His steel gaze bore into the Doflamingo, whose insane grin had returned on his face.

"If you ever…_ever… _use your powers on me, or so much as get in my way, then not even your warlord status will save you. I will _ruin_ you."

"Ohhh~ my little Law has grown up into a big scary man! Fuufufufufu!" Doflamingo tried to laugh off the words, but Law wasn't going to have it. If anything, it made the Surgeon of Death even angrier.

Smirking in return, Law reached into his coat and pulled out a syringe, which was filled with a neon yellow-green fluid. Tiny bubbles floated around the substance in hurried swirls. In a low voice, filled with dark intentions, he uttered, "Have you ever heard of the banana spider?" He waited for a moment, knowing already that no one had probably even heard of this particular arachnid. But he was going to enjoy the possibility of mentally scarring these poor fools.

"The banana spider is found in the rainforest of a remote island. Its venom is highly concentrated with serotonin, a neurotransmitter that constricts the blood vessels. The serotonin stimulates the body into generating pain-promoting chemicals to the site of injury, thus making the banana spiders bite exceedingly agonizing. But that is not the only effect of the poison. When a male victim is bitten they experience priapism; hours of uncontrolled penile erection. If your survive the flesh rotting, bone cell death, loss of muscle control, and paralysis, which can lead to asphyxiation that is either due to diaphragm or heart paralysis, then depending on your fortune, you might live long enough to experience a heart attack due to the amount blood being continuously concentrated into your penis."

Law finished his speech, a look of pure uncontained evil twisting his mouth and narrowing his cold eyes. The doctor allowed his malicious smirk to widen when the face of Doflamingo grew pale. Any hint of a smile had vanished off of the blond warlords face. All of the men of the room, even Kuma, couldn't help but grimace and cross their legs as the macabre images haunted their psyches. Once satisfied, Law returned the syringe to the confines of his winter jacket and took his seat.

Ignoring the cold sweat that had broken out on the back of his neck, Fleet Admiral Akainu sat back in his chair with a heavy thump. Why did the higher-ups insist on allowing this- this- _psychotic_ _surgeon_- to be allowed into the warlords? Clearing his throat to get everyone's attention, he quietly spoke, "If your two are done, let's get this meeting over with.

The marines and pirates muttered their agreement, still very disquieted by the surgeon's gruesome tirade.

Seemingly recovered from the graphic images instilled into his conscious, Mihawk folded his arms across his chest as he kicked both of his feet up to rest on the meeting table. He noticed how the men on each side of Akainu visibly flinched, but decided he didn't care.

As for Akainu himself, he had resigned himself to ignore the swordsman. After dealing with the antics of Doflamingo and Law, he could feel a few more of his hairs graying. Suddenly he remembered something important. "Does anyone know if Boa Hancock is showing up?"

"She told me she can't make it. She is busy making dinner", Law informed, much to the men's increasing shock.

"…How do you know this?"

"She called me."

When Law had dropped Monkey D. Luffy off at an island with Rayleigh that was near Amazon Lily, Boa and Law had exchanged den den mushis. Boa had insisted on being able to call Law incase Luffy's condition worsened, also so that she could ask him about which type of meals would aid in the rubber man's recovery. At first he had wanted to decline, but that large breasted woman was scary. Why were her boobs so huge…they would only cause severe back problems in her age…and being such a great size… Law could only imagine what they would be like when her estrogen levels dropped and the inevitable fall of the breasts began. All of this only further served to increase his dislike of the amazon woman.

Waves of jealousy radiated off the marines standing watch outside the doors. They had heard everything. Why did that creep doctor know Boa Hancock? It wasn't fair! And... IS SHE MAKING LAW DINNER!?

The warlords and marines in the meeting room didn't fail to notice to the strange aura coming from behind the door. It was dark and filled with testosterone heavy rage.

"Right…Anyways, let's continue…"

The fleet admiral began relaying the initial borings bits of information. Most of it was reports about the problems of islands and their citizens.

After what seemed like hours of sitting through the boring lecture, Law glanced to his right, taking notice of the position of Mihawk's legs. 'Elevation of the legs…it could prove beneficial to vein health and promote more comfort in these damned seats', he mused. Lifting his own legs, Law placed his own feet on the table and crossed them at the ankles. 'Much better.'

That is when Mihawk noticed the other men starting to sweating nervously, and how their gazes flickered from Akainu to Law. Looking over to the man sitting next to him, he realized that Law was mimicking his leg position. After the doctors morbid threat, no one was willing to challenge Law. Smirking inwardly, he couldn't help but think it all was amusing.

The master swordsman's attention started to wander. His amber eyes somehow focused on Doflamingo, and that is when he began to recall all of the other warlord's initiations in frightening detail.

_Mihawk hadn't been there when Doflamingo and Kuma were initiated, but apparently they had joined at nearly the same time. Kuma's pants used to not have those spotted marks on them. Doflamingo's idea of initiation had resulted in their spotted appearance. _

_Mihawk briefly wondered if the same thing had happened to Trafalgar Law's jeans._

_Anyways, all of this had occurred before Kuma had become a complete cyborg. Needless to say, the bible wielding man had plotted to return the favor. Mihawk had only heard rumors, but supposedly Doflamingos favorite feathered coat had used to be white. Kuma had done something unspeakable to the blonde's favorite article of clothing, resulting in its now pink appearance._

_For some strange reason Doflamingo had been overjoyed by the change. The pink-feather warlord had quickly, and unexpectedly, become friends with Kuma, who had also secretly liked his new patterned pants. Yet that had been the only favorable outcome of Doflamingo's initiations._

_A fishman named Jinbei joined them soon after that. That poor fishman. Jinbei was constantly forced to change kimonos due to Doflamingo's pranks. It ranged from spilling food on them to throwing corpses at the whale shark fishman. It had gotten to the point where Mihawk was starting to wonder if Doflamingo was racist. _

_The last straw had been when Doflamingo had spilled soy sauce on Jinbei's favorite kimono. Then Doflamingo even had the audacity to say, "Looks like we will be having sushi tonight! Fufufufuuu!"_

_Doflamingo's teasing of the fishman came to an abrupt end after that. A well-aimed fishman karate attack to the solar plexus tends to be very convincing. It had also left a memorable flamingo shaped hole in the wall._

_When it came time for Gecko Moriah to join the ranks, it had turned into a mutual dislike between Doflamingo and Moriah. It had also turned into a big mess when they had fought over the control of an unfortunate marine. Puppet strings and shadow stealing did not mix very well. It was quite a sight to see two warlords mopping the floors of a marine base._

_Sometime later, one of Doflamingo's underground associates had managed to join their ranks .He was somewhat of a business man, on top of being a pirate, and a logia user, who had managed to keep his bounty down by maintaining a low profile. Mihawk had honestly been surprised by the unusual contemplative silence of Doflamingo during that meeting. This new man, Crocodile, seemed to hold a special place in the blonde's attention, which wasn't necessarily a good thing._

_Later on, Mihawk's suspicions had been proven correct when a series of loud yells and animalistic howls were heard coming from the depths of Doflamingo's ship. The flamingo man had docked his vessel in the marine harbor for that meeting. Mihawk preferred not to think of what could have happened between the two underworlders._

_Yes, it was indeed a great misfortune to catch the feathered warlord's interest._

_For some unknown reason Doflamingo had waited for a new warlord to join, so that he could do his 'initiation ritual' on both Mihawk and the newcomer. That new warlord happened to be Boa Hancock. Doflamingo had lurked in the shadows, waiting for his chance to strike. Boa and Mihawk had met in the middle of a hallway, and that is when Mihawk had felt the tug of the puppet strings._

_He had been forced to dance, with a rose clenched in his mouth. It was supposed to be like some romantic tango, but Mihawk had felt anything but romantic at the time. Someday he was going to rip the pink-feathered man's face off- no sword required. _

_Boa Hancock hadn't known what to think when the hawk-eyed man had danced around, coming to kneel before her with a rose in hand; all with a perfectly stoic expression. 'Were all men so…scruffy… and strange?' But then she was left further confused when Mihawk had suddenly growled, "Doflamingo…" Yes, definitely strange._

Rubbing his at his golden eyes, Mihawk returned his focus to the present. Akainu was still babbling away and had yet to get to the important details. The master swordsman wasn't sure what was worse; recalling the stupidity of Doflamingo, or this torturous meeting?

Stretching his arms over his head, Mihawk suppressed the urge to yawn. He tilted his hat forward to shade his face more, folding both of his limbs behind his head, and closed his eyes. Now was a good time as any for a nap.

Mihawk was not the only one who was not paying attention. Law had reclined back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrest and steepling his hands together in a pseudo pensive appearance. However, his gray eyed stare was focused on anything but the meeting.

_Law had always wanted to be a swordsman. Ever since he was a child and he had seen the great Dracule Mihawk storm into Doflamingo's place and give the blond the trashing of a lifetime. The blondes high pitched shrieks continued to pleasantly echo in Law' s memory. At the time he had not completely understood what the fight was about, but apparently it had been due to some sort of prank war gone too far. That hawk-eyed man had become his inspiration; he was what he aspired to be one day._

_Mihawk was part of the reason why he had joined the warlords, but he also needed the position to accomplish another particular goal he had in mind. Acquiring warlord status would grant him access to places no normal pirate would be able to enter._

_But Doflamingo needed a surgeon, not a swordsman. His right-hand man, Vergo, had quickly resorted to beating the idea of swordplay out of Law's body with a Haki infused piece of bamboo. Vergo had insisted that Doflamingo needed the best doctor possible, so studying anything else was no less than a sin. There was no time to learn anything but medical skills. Hours of studying medical journals, dissecting various species, and eventually humans, had been branded into Law as a child. Days would run into each other without breaks or pauses for sleep and eating. At first Law didn't like it, but it was hard not to notice that he was a prodigy. He was good at being a doctor. Something about the human body continued to fascinate him. Law was so good that many of his older colleagues called him the demonic-brat-genius-spawn of Doflamingo. But Law didn't want to be just a doctor; he wanted to be a swordsman too._

_As Law became older he was allowed more freedom, so in-between his medical studies he researched swordplay in secret. The wonderful feeling of a sword cutting through flesh was harsher than a scalpel's, but the strength behind a real blade was enchanting. One day Vergo had found out and told Doflamingo, who had ordered his subordinate to beat Law within an inch of his life. That was the day Law had finally left the Donquixoute Pirates._

The Fleet Admiral paused in his speech, sending a fiery glare at the two warlords snoozing at the end of the table. It was almost funny. The two-dark-haired men looked like they were mirroring each other. Both of them had their arms folded across their chest, their hats titled down, swords hanging from the back of their chairs, and their…their GODDAMN FEET WERE ON THE TABLE!

Akainu's jaw clenched as a shadow fell over his face. Muscles bulged from the fleet admirals thick neck. The warlords that were still conscious scooted backwards in their seat, knowing full well what to come. "Get…your…GODDAMNED FEET OFF THE TABLE!"

Law hadn't realized he had allowed himself to fall asleep, so when the thunderous roar erupted from Akainu the surgeon jolted awake. His momentum had his chair teetering dangerously. As the doctor was beginning to fall backwards his precarious movement was suddenly halted. Law stared wide-eyed, blinking in disbelief. Slowly he turned his gaze to stare at the man, whose arm had braced against the back of his chair to stop his fall.

'Did…Hawkeye just…why? That's twice today that he has helped me out. First with Garp and now this?' Law's thoughts continued to swirl with various questions, concerning the master swordsman's assistance. A small shove from the other man interrupted his train of thought, and he soon found himself settled on all four chair legs again.

After a bit more of hesitation, Law softly voiced, "Thank you." Mihawk turned his head, opening one of his golden eye's to fix Law with an unreadable stare as the older man nodded his acknowledgement. 'Why does he have to look so fucking cool…', Laws inner voice grumbled, a deep frown involuntarily etching itself onto his face.

Mihawk sighed, reluctantly removing his feet from the table and returned his piercing stare to the fleet admiral. It was only then that he noticed the strange looks coming from the other men.

Suddenly Doflamingo broke the silence by whining, "Awww~…you should have let him fall Hawky. It would have been funny! Fuufuufufuu!"

Murderous intent suddenly flooded the room in dark waves. All of the men turned to stare at the surgeon, whose eyes gleamed with an unholy light straight from the demons of your worst nightmares. A toothy grin split across Law's features, the shadows underneath is eyes enhancing the menacing aura.

"One more word from you Doflamingo...and i will personally see to transplanting your penis to your massive forehead. No one will ever confuse you with a flamingo again. Instead, they will be wondering if you are some kind of sick unicorn pervert."

All of the color fled from the rapidly blanching face of Doflamingo, leaving a bloodless bluish-purple hue spread across his horrified countenance. He had once again lost his trademark smile. That had to be the new record for the number of times someone had caused Doflamingo not to smile in one day.

Smoker had bitten through both of his cigars. He wasn't sure if he should be laughing or terrified, so he settled with the violent twitching of his eyebrow. His initial suspicions of Trafalgar Law being a source of trouble were turning out to be disturbingly accurate. It was lucky that his hair was already white, or it may have turned a few shades grayer.

"Oooohh~… Guy's, I think Kuma has crashed", Admiral Kizaru suddenly voiced. Everyone turned to stare at the yellow suited man, who was standing on the table and flashing beams of light at the cyborgs lensed eyeballs. "Hmm…looks like he blue screened", the admiral exclaimed.

"What?"

"Ooo really? Let me see!"

"Oiii Kumaaa~! You in there!?"

Admiral Kizaru and Doflamingo had both hopped on to the table to better get a look at the tall cyborgs eyes. Smoker had stood up from his seat and was poking the side of Kuma's head with his jitte.

When Fleet Admiral Akainu himself clambered on top the table, the others were shocked. "You idiots! Move over! Get out of the way." The Hawaiian-shirted admiral roughly pushed the men on the table aside, standing on his tip toes to get a better look for himself. He stared into the cyborgs eye's that had washed over in blue with white letters scrolling across the lenses.

Suddenly there was a beeping noise accompanied by the unmistakable thrum of the machine coming from Kuma. That is when the cyborg finally spoke.

"Processing…Processing…Fatal system error has occurred. Initializing shutdown to preserve system integrity… Initializing data for crash dump…Dumping physical memory to storage drives…Enganging in shut doowwwnn…"

Kuma's eyes grew dark. The meeting room was filled with a terrible muteness, leaving the men to look on in silence. Slowly they turned their heads to each other. A loud smacking noise directed all of their attention to Fleet Admiral Akainu, who had a hand covering his face.

"We are taking a five minute break. If you do not return in that time, or if you try to escape, you will suddenly find yourself haunted to the very depths of hell itself with never ending volcano formations. There will be no safe place on this world for you. There will never be a moments rest. It could be when you are at the beach, reading a newspaper, walking your dog, drinking some wine, visiting a whorehouse, trying to take a shit, talking on a transponder snail, or even attempting to nap. Don't even fool yourself for a second if you think you are getting out of this meeting…Alright, Dismissed. Report back in exactly five minutes or you will find yourself suddenly very crispy."

Doflamingo began to break out in a nervous sweat, his lips forming a hard line as his thought betrayed him. 'Oh no…I havn't taken a shit in days…What if I explode!?' Although… Law's creep factor had inadvertently sent his bowels in to activity once again. He was glad he hadn't shitted himself in the middle of the meeting. 'Yes…a potty break would be greatly beneficial…and necessary thanks to Law…'

Mihawk frowned, his golden eyes widening a fraction. 'That red-dog bastard! Not my naps!'

The warlords and the marines stood stock-still for a moment, their eyes sliding to glance sidelong at each other. In a mad eruption of a flurry of movement, the men made a scrambled dash for the door, sending chairs flying in their wake and also the startled marines, who had been standing guard outside the door.

Once the room was empty, Fleet Admiral Akainu slowly dragged his hand away from his face. His gaze flickered over to the unresponsive cyborg. From underneath the shadow of his cap, a single bead of sweat rolled down his weathered features.

'Oh shit…Dr. Vegapunk is going to kill me.'

**-X+O+X-**


	3. Chapter 3

**Unorthodox Collaboration**

**Ch.3**

**Authors Note:**

*** Gorosei- heads of world government**

**-X+O+X-**

Trafalgar Law lay flat on his back, in the middle of the marine base hallway, taking a moment to marvel at how the warlords and marines had burst out of the meeting room. Doflamingo had been the first to escape. His massive pink feathery form proved to move at startling speeds considering his size. Dracule 'Hawkeye' Mihawk had managed to glide out of the doors quicker than a shadow, Admiral Kizaru had beamed himself out of the nearest window with a blinding flash, and as for Vice Admiral Smoker he had quite literally vanished in a puff of smoke, effectively adding to the chaos with a smokescreen.

All of the hurried movement, obscured in white smoke lit up by a flash, had somehow deposited Law just outside of the meeting room, where he was currently lying. He would have been pissed, but Law was too busy wondering how he had ended up like this. Also, he should be using his limited break time more efficiently.

Huffing out a sigh, Law picked himself up from off of the floor and brushed the dust off of his clothing. Looking down the hallways the branched from his current one, Law decided he should try and find a bathroom before the meeting started again. Medical training along with common sense warned him that he should try to use the bathroom before he was forced to sit and listen to more of the fleet admirals boring oration. Retaining ones urine could result in permanent damage to the bladder's muscles, infection, kidney failure, or god forbid if the bladder ruptured, leading to hematuria and possibly causing sepsis that would ultimately result in death.

Breaking away from those unwanted thoughts, the doctors increased his pace. Both the need to urinate and to get back to the meeting room in time quickened Law's stride. It was pretty bad when your own knowledge was enough to give you the sudden urge to piss.

Sweat formed on Laws brow as he hurried down the corridors. His winter coat suddenly seemed entirely out of place in this climate, so Law undid the zipper, allowing himself to air out as he weaved through the tides of marines. As he turned the corner the crowds of marines swelled, but also they happened to be running away from the direction he was heading. Panicked cries and horrified screeches filled the air. Drawing closer, Law could make out several streams of marines trying to squeeze past each other as they scrabbled away from a small door. The looks on their discolored faces, ranging from blue, green and bleached white, were filled with horror and disgust. Some of the marines clutched at their noses, had tears in their eyes, were gagging, and in a few instances were hunched over vomiting until their stomachs were empty. Perhaps some epidemic or plague had broken out behind that door to cause such a mass reaction?

Law's feeling of initial puzzlement made a wrenching turn into dismay, as he realized where they were fleeing from and why. From the small door, pictured with a stick figure on the front, even from this distance, a malodorous stench wafted over in the air. Staggering backwards, Law's tattooed fingers grasped at his nose as he backpedalled away from the scent in alarm. 'What the hell caused this?!'

A feeling of certain doom washed over the dark-haired warlord. The only bathroom in sight was contaminated by those noxious fumes. Also, Law still felt the growing and desperate need to relieve his bladder. There was no way he could safely urinate in such toxic conditions, unless he wanted to die.

Suddenly a person, propelled by a column of smoke, burst through the small door, straight towards Law, all the while yelling, "DAMMIT DOFLAMINGO!"

Gray eyes widening in shock, all Law could do was stand there. His need for the bathroom had evolved into one that left him crippled by its intensity. Any unnecessary movement threated for an untimely release of his liquid burden, so he was forced to tense every fiber of his being just before the man collided with him.

_After the meeting, Vice Admiral Smoker had gone to use the bathroom. He was rather unsettled that Doflamingo happened to be in one of the stalls, but his need to piss had quickly overridden his sense of caution. It was soon made clear to Smoker that had clearly not been one of the smartest choices in his life. Let's just say the heinous smell, accompanied by unspeakable noises, coming from that stall was enough incentive for the white-haired admiral to make a hasty retreat from the bathroom. Many of his fellow marines, who were not as fortunate as him, had fallen. Their noble sacrifice would have to be lamented later. Smoker was pretty sure that his nose was bleeding by the time he had managed to escape. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to smell the right way again, or look at a toilet the same way without those mental scars resurfacing to attack at his conscious._

Together the two men skidded across the polished floors, their fateful collision accompanied with an earsplitting drawn-out squeak that turned the heads of every marine present. The marines' horror was magnified by numerous amounts as they realized that it was Vice Admiral Smoker himself who had seemingly tackled the Surgeon of Death to the ground. They were caught between the overwhelming odor at their backs and the terrifying disaster that was the two men at their fronts. There was no escape, at least not until Smoker and Law got up and moved. But, there was no way that their crash could end on good terms.

Vice Admiral Smoker grunted as he peeled his face off of the bony object he had crashed into. When Smoker looked down he was momentarily paralyzed when he realized he was on top of Trafalgar Law. However, the sight of the man under him had his heart hammering against his chest as he continued to gape and stare. Law's face was flushed in a rosy hue, his stormy iris' had tears hanging at the edges, thin legs forced apart around each side of him, sweat beading on his caramel colored flesh, lush lips pulled back in a grimace, and an overall look of discomfort on his striking features.

A guttural groan dragged itself out of the surgeon's tattooed chest. Law narrowed his eyes as he glared up at the marine, who had landed between his legs of all places. Their collision had been an agonizing blow to his manhood, on top of his need to urinate. In short, Law was ready to scream. The shear effort it took to hold in his piss had brought heat straight to his face. "Smoker…" Law grounded out, glaring at the white-haired marine with watery eyes.

Steady droplets of blood gushed out of the vice admirals nose, soaking the yellow fabric of Law's hoodie. Both men stared with wide eyes as the Heart Pirate jolly roger, depicted on the front of the garment, was overtaken in splotches of red. They froze, staring at the violated hoodie in silence. Something in both of the men snapped. The dark aura that emitted from the two men had the marines, who were still standing in the background, quivering in fear.

'This…_bastard_! That was my favorite hoodie! I'm going to fucking kill him!'

Smoker absentmindedly raised a gloved hand to his nose, staring at the blood soaking the newly appointed warlord's shirt. His crime was made worse by the fact that it had a jolly roger depicted on the front. To sully a jolly roger in any way was utter blasphemy in the unwritten pirate code of honor. Also, did he just nosebleed over Law? 'No. It must have been that flamingo stench,' thought Smoker, consoling himself. 'I would never a nosebleed over a man…a smoking hot man…' Smoker grabbed his chest as another heartbeat pounded in his chest, ringing behind both eardrums.

'…Oh shit. Tashigi is going to kill me.' He would never cheat on his subordinate though! Looking up from the hoodie, what the vice admiral had originally perceived as a hot and bothered look on Laws face was now replaced one of pure rage. In the confusion he had forgotten that he was currently on top of the man called the Surgeon of Death.

Law growled vehemently, glaring at the man with the intensity of burning steel. That hoodie held a special place in his heart, and now the vice admiral had just figuratively crushed it. This inexcusable act would not pass in silence, it demanded a suitable revenge. "You just ruined something very precious to my heart, so I am inclined do the same to you - an eye for an eye, so to speak. You understand, right?" An ostensible smile quirked at the corner of Laws lips, the deranged look in his eyes betraying his real emotions.

A deathly hush overtook the hallway as Law and Smoker engaged each other in a stare down. No one dared to move, holding their breaths for the inevitable clash. The look of shock on Smoker's bloody face, along with the surgeon's apparent wrath, instilled anxiety into the hearts of every marine present. But, why was the vice admiral just laying there?

Smoker's thoughts were revolving around his body's betrayal, the fist still over his heart clenching at his jackets fabric. There was no doubt in his mind that he loved Tashigi, but still, the vice admiral was inwardly panicking. Tashigi would not love a man who was lacking would she? Without that piece of himself, would he still be able to really love her without the emotions tied to that organ? With those thoughts in mind, it was clear what he must do. For the both of them, Smoker would risk his honor and pride as a marine. No, as a man!

'My penis is in danger! I must run!' Bolting to his feet, Smoker made a mad dash down one of the bleached granite hallways. His rapidly diminishing form let out a loud scream of, "TASSHHIIIIGIIIII~," that was heard throughout the marine base.

Law's eyes widened, an eyebrow twitching, and pressed his lips together in a hard line while he turned his head to watch the vice admiral flee down the hallway and around a corner. 'Well, that was unexpected. I guess I will have to save ripping his heart out for later. Although, I do wonder why he was covering his crotch with both of his hands.' Law's gaze slid back to the marines, who screeched in horror as the warlord looked in their direction.

Swarms of marines scurried in fright, pushing against each other in blind panic as they fought to escape. If a vice admiral had fled the scene, than there was no way they were going to stick around.

Now that he was alone in the hallway, Law fleetingly glanced at the ominous bathroom door. 'No way in hell.' The tattooed warlord sighed heavily when his attention returned to his bloodied hoodie. Law resigned himself to peeling off the stained clothing and going shirtless. In afterthought, he pulled his winter coat back on, leaving it unzipped and prepared himself to leave as well.

As he tried to stand, warning jolts from his bladder sent Law right back on his ass. Law balled his hands into tight fists and pressed them against his thighs to fight the mortifying urge to grab between his legs. 'Oh shit. I can't even move without pissing myself!' His thoughts continued in a downward spiral. He was stuck sitting in the middle of a marine base, having to pee, and if he couldn't make it back to the meeting it may cost him his life and the position of warlord. Not to mention, it would be really embarrassing to wet your pants at his age.

Steps clicking on the polished floors sounded in his ears, snapping his attention to their source. A wheezing breath ushered out of Laws lungs as he stared in wide-eyed shock. 'Of course, who else would it be? Knowing my luck, it just had to be _Hawkeye - _HOLY FUCKING MOTHER OF -_ Mihawk_! How many times is he going to see me at my worst?' Dragging a tattooed hand down his face, Law looked up to see the master swordsman still walking towards him. Maybe the older man hadn't seen him yet. Judging by the high angle of the bottle in the others pale hand, Mihawk appeared to be chugging down the last of its contents.

_Once their break time had been initiated, Mihawk had taken to opportunity to allocate a bottle of wine for himself. His keen senses proved invaluable in tracking down his favorite beverage. It had been a good find too. After raiding an unsuspecting marine official's office, the golden-eyed man was pleased to discover a vintage red wine hiding on a high shelf. Considering that there wasn't much time for a break, Mihawk resigned himself to multitasking; drinking while walking back to the meeting place._

Feeling eyes on him, Mihawk lowered the now empty wine bottle away from his lips. He was rather unprepared for what he saw next, so he inadvertently stopped dead in his tracks a few meters from the younger man. Blinking slowly, he folded his arms across his torso, trying to comprehend the situation.

Trafalgar Law was sitting in the middle of a marine base hallway, looking rather scandalized if his bare-chested state said anything. The doctors gray hued eyes were round in what looked like shock, and for some reason Law made no move to stand up. Mihawk noted the smears of blood on the tattooed chest, along with the sanguine stained hoodie on the floor. His gaze flickered briefly to the restroom door at the end of the hallway as a faint odor reached his senses.

Finally the master swordsman resigned himself to questioning the younger man. "Again I find myself asking, what are you doing, Doctor Trafalgar?" It was better to ask than to voice one of the many possible conclusions he had developed. All of the scenarios Mihawk had considered proved nothing less than disturbing.

Frowning deeply, Law sighed before he sarcastically replied, "I am morning the loss of my hoodie." He waved his bloodied garment in his hands for emphasis. The blank stare coming from the older man prompted Law to add, "Doflamingo's pollution of the bathroom seems to have caused severe nasal sinus damage to Vice Admiral Smoker, at least enough to cause a major nosebleed. Perhaps brain damage as well, judging by his strange behavior."

Mihawk narrowed his golden eyes in contemplation, piecing together the holes in the vague story. Thanks to previous experiences, it was not too hard to accomplish. "So, now you are unable to make it to the bathroom. Even if you could it would, at best, be suicide," he stated as a fact. When the younger man grimly nodded his confirmation he then voiced, "Given your current position, I assume your need for a bathroom has become urgent."

"I'm afraid so," Law responded, his mouth tightening in a pained grimace. He tried his best not to squirm or fidget under the hawk-eyed gaze, but it was hard when all he wanted to do was pee. Also, he was pretty sure that by now the master swordsman must have a strange impression of him. Venturing a glance up at the older man's face, Law was surprised when Mihawk's golden eyes lit up, shining with what could only be a brilliant plan. It was a startling contrast to his normally impassive expression.

"Come with me. We will have to hurry."

Blinking in shock, Law flinched when Mihawk stooped down and grabbed underneath each of his armpits, dragging him down the hallways. Law could only cross his legs, bite his lips, and clamp his hands around the other man's forearms as he tried to hold on. "Where are we going," Law managed to gasp through his clenched teeth, doing his best to not show any of the panic he was feeling through his voice. He was essentially helpless, and the fact that the greatest swordsman happened to be hauling him through the marine base did not help the situation at all.

"Somewhere more private," Mihawk replied, not once bothering to look down as he continued his hurried pace. He noted a strangled gurgling noise come from Law, along with the grip around his arms tightening, but decided it was due to the bump in the floor he had to drag him over.

'_Private!? _Ohhh fucking shit! I'm going to die! Killers always drag their victims to a more secluded location. This is it…Dear god, please let Bepo come to people heaven even though he is a bear. I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to him and the crew- .'

Law's thoughts were abruptly cut off by the sound of a door being slammed shut, sealing them inside of a secluded marine office. From his position on the tatami mat floor, he looked up at Mihawk only to have a vintage wine bottle shoved into his face, causing him to fall backwards onto his elbows.

"Here, use this," Mihawk said, holding the wine bottle out to the younger warlord. He watched as Law sat back up, taking the proffered object in both of his tattooed hands. When the other man continued stare at him with wide questioning eyes, he added, "I would hurry, Doctor Trafalgar."

"You know Hawkeye-ya, I am really starting to wonder why you keep helping me out," Law voiced even as he pivoted around so his back was towards Mihawk for privacy. His need for relief had outweighed his initial wariness towards the master swordsman. If Mihawk was going to kill him he would have already done it by now. Looking over his shoulder, Law smirked as he voiced, "In any case, thank you."

Crossing his arms, Mihawk turned to face the door. "We share a common enemy. Doflamingo has caused enough trouble as it is. In all honesty, it is rather satisfying to knock his massively pompous head down a few pegs."

"I am inclined to agree with you on that..."

With his business complete, Law sighed out in relief. He stood up with new found confidence, deftly zipping his jeans shut. As he was turning around, Law realized he had a bottle of piss that he didn't quite know what to do with. There was no trashcan or wastebasket in sight.

Upon noticing the tattooed man's confusion, Mihawk to the opportunity to say, "I'll take that."

Law gaped as Mihawk took the bottle from him, corking it shut before he slipped it back into his jacket. "What are you going to do with _that_!?" The questioned had escaped him before he could stop himself, so when he realized he blurted it out loud, he firmly clenched his mouth shut. He was left further aghast when an aberrant smirk manifested itself on the swordsman's pale face.

"Let's just say that someone will finally be getting a taste of his own medicine. Kukukuku…"

**-X+O+X-**

_It was recorded later that day, and on that exact date and time, that the marines had heard the sound of the devil himself laughing amidst the construction. Amongst all the work and laboring, a chill had run up every single one of the marines spines as a dark chuckling rumbled throughout marine headquarters, chilling them to the soul. There were various theories later written on the subject in great detail, but many of the older men came up with more logical explanations. Perhaps the heat had caused some of the workers to hallucinate, or even the deadly gas that had mysteriously manifested in the bathrooms that day. They had lost so many men to the unspeakable odor. So the more suspicious of the marines argued that only the devil himself could produce such a foul stench. To this day, only a few know the real truth behind that fateful day._

**-X+O+X-**

Fleet Admiral Akainu tapped his fingers against the meeting table as he waited for the group of men to reassemble. He turned to stare at the still unresponsive Kuma, who had apparently crashed after being unable to comprehend the actions between of Hawkeye Mihawk and Trafalgar Law. When he thought about it, Akainu himself was still puzzling over why the swordsman had assisted the newest warlord. There was just no reason for it. The incident was made stranger because Mihawk made a point of not exerting any extra effort that was not absolutely necessary.

A beam of light coming from the window temporarily blinded the fleet admiral, bringing dark spots to his eyes. Growling, he looked up to see Admiral Kizaru strutting over to his seat with a bushel of bananas in hand.

"Mhh, these taste pretty good," Kizaru exclaimed after swallowing his mouthful of banana. Flopping in his seat, he continued devouring his snack, mumbling around the fruit, " Whur esh tha odhers?"

Heaving an exasperated huff, Akainu rubbed at his tired face. "They still have about a minute left. Most of those morons don't seem to know how to be on time."

The door creaking open made both of the elder marines look up. Akainu was ready to fall out of his chair when both Mihawk and Law walked in. They had come _together, _and they were actually _on time._ When they both were in their chairs he noticed that Law was missing his shirt. Frowning in concentration, he couldn't help but notice that with just that jacket on it made Trafalgar resemble Hawkeye even more. Somehow the thought of having two Hawkeye-like entities in the same room, or even the same planet, caused a headache to form behind the fleet admiral's twitching eyes.

Before he could make a comment on it, the doors swung open again as Doflamingo strutted in with a big smile, looking _strangely_ happy considering the meetings past events."Fuufufufu, where is Smokey the Bear? Isn't the meeting about to start?" Doflamingo asked, resuming his odd perching on the back of his chair.

Just then, the meeting doors slammed open again. Everyone's wide eyed stare followed the white-haired vice admiral. There was something…_wrong_… with his face. It was only until Smoker was seated that someone dared to voice the question that had been on everyone's minds the moment he had entered the room.

With a voice uncharacteristically filled with caution, fleet admiral Akainu solemnly questioned, "Vice Admiral Smoker…what are those… _things_ inside of your nose?" He himself of course knew already, but he was seriously wondering if the vice admiral had any idea.

Smoker absentmindedly rubbed a finger underneath of his nose, which was filled with white cylindrical cotton rolls that had white string hanging from the ends. Each of the foreign objects had soaked up a bit of blood judging by their color. With a slightly nasal tone, the white-haired marine somberly replied, "During the break I had a bad nosebleed. My subordinate, Tashigi, was kind enough to assist me with these," he finished, pointing to the objects stuffed in his nostrils. He didn't exactly know what they were, but the things had worked like a charm.

Law was biting the inside of his cheeks, trying not to laugh at the ignorance of the middle-aged marine. Yes, the devices in his nose were working like they were supposed to, but they were meant to soak up blood in a different place. It was strange the ruining of his favorite hoodie had resulted in such a twisted outcome. What had his subordinate been thinking?

Doflamingos was grinning from ear to ear, chuckling "Fuufufufufu." Inwardly he was thinking, 'This Tashigi person has a wonderful sense of humor. Or maybe it is some twisted love kink. Either way, I like her style.'

In contrast, Mihawk was frowning, staring at the marine with an unreadable expression. 'Severe nasal bleed indeed. I can see why the doctor suspected the possibility of brain damage.'

Admiral Kizaru finally hummed, "Hmm, why do you have tampons in your nose?"

"_What_?" Smoker blinked in confusion, not recognizing the new word. When Law, Doflamingo, and – _HAWKEYE MIHAWK _of all people_!? - _burst out laughing, he gaped, his entire head turning crimson as waves of embarrassment rolled over him. He was only saved from further mortification when a loud bang from the fleet admiral sounded from a fist slamming against the table.

Muscles bulged in the fleet admirals neck as Akainu roared, "ENOUGH! If you idiots keep fooling around we will never get this meeting over with! So shut your goddamn faces!"

**-X+O+X-**

After a few more manly giggles, the men eventually settled down. Even Smoker's radiant blush had faded. 'Honestly, children behave better than these fools,' Akainu thought to himself bitterly. At least he could now get to the major issue at hand.

"There has been an incident of mass disappearances occurring on the island called Madrid. What little information that has been gathered points to a cult rooted deep within the city. The locals are beginning to panic. Every night that passes, more citizens vanish with no sign of struggle or any evidence to suggest the cause of their disappearance. We have tried sending several troops of marines to investigate and none have returned. Even the advanced members of Cipher Pol that we have sent have failed. Given the nature of this unknown threat, it has been decided that two warlords will be sent to investigate and nullify this _cult _before full-blown hysteria overtakes the city."

"Fufufufufuu! Madrid huh? That town is famous for its commerce and trade. I can see why the government is so concerned over its safety," Doflamingo jabbed, successfully hitting the marines' nerves. "But why do _two _warlords need to go?"

"Because you damned pirates can't be trusted," Smoker rumbled before the fleet admiral could reply. "You warlords are always looking to abuse you power. Just look at Crocodile and Blackbeard! One of them ran an underground crime syndicate right underneath our noses and the other betrayed us the moment he gained his position! This damned rookie, Trafalgar, is sure to be nothing but trouble too!"

Narrowing his eyes, Law glared at the white-haired marine. The vice-admiral was surprisingly close to the truth. But he wasn't planning on moving with his plans quite yet.

"Fufufufufu! With power always comes abuse." Doflamingo's grin turned wolfish as he added, "Don't think for a second that you marines are any different. If anything its worse in the goverments case, they become the biggest hypocrites to their so called_ justice_. " He cackled in amusement as Smoker growled in rage, causing one of the tampons to slide a bit out of place.

"Enough Vice Admiral Smoker," Akainu barked, silencing Smoker with a heated glower. "The Gorosei have voted, and their decision is that Hawkeye Mihawk will be the one to lead this mission." He paused as the man in question placed a hand over his face, shaking his head sadly. "They have left the choice of who you are taking in your hands, Hawkeye. And no! You cannot take Kuma!" The cyborg was down for the count, and there was no way he was going to let Hawkeye take advantage of Kuma's comatose state.

Sighing through is nose, Mihawk contemplated it for a moment. 'Besides the battle of Marineford, it has been awhile since they have personally forced me to do anything, so there is no way out of this. It is also unsettling that they feel the need for two warlords to go on this mission. I suppose it will kill some time.'

Frowning at the Fleet Admiral, Mihawk abruptly deadpanned, "Fine. I am taking Trafalgar with me."

His quick response completely floored the fleet admiral, who stared in total shock. Akainu was expecting kicking and screaming, or at least an angry glare accompanied by some broken furniture. But this had been so - _easy_. After a long moment, he finally said, "Well, if Trafalgar agrees to it, than it should be alright."

"Sure", Law replied nonchalantly. "If nothing else, it will give me a chance to learn the ropes." But inwardly he was squirming with delight. This was Law's chance to work with his childhood inspiration. There was no way in hell he would pass up this seemingly godsend of an opportunity. If he was lucky, he might even learn a few sword techniques through careful observation. It was the perfect chance to compare his swordsmanship skills to the greatest. Of course, Law masked his excitement with his perfectly lethargic countenance.

Inwardly sigh in relief, Akainu couldn't believe his luck. After such the initial difficulties of the meeting, the most pressing issue had been dealt with the easiest. It was an unexpected reprieve from the previous displays of insanity.

**-X+O+X-**

**Sub Authors Note:**

**There was so much more I wanted to write, but this chapter is already too long! How did that happen? Oh well, there is much more insanity to come *evil laughter*.**


	4. Chapter 4

Unorthodox Collaboration

Ch.4

-X+O+X-

The scraping of chairs against the floor announced what was the end of their forced gathering, or torture in most of the men's minds. They were so grateful for their release from captivity, that all of them actually walked out of the meeting room like _normal _people.

Dracule 'Hawkeye' Mihawk had thought he was safe when he managed to step outside the door, but the weight a large hand on his shoulder proved him wrong. Resisting the urge to cleave off the tanned limb, the master swordsman turned his cold glare to its moronic smiling owner. "What," Mihawk said, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

"Aww~ don't be like that! Fuufufufuu!" Doflamingo motioned for the shorter man to follow him to an out-of-the-way corner. Here there they would not be bothered by any of the marines, who were scurrying about and yelling strange things about some sort of devil crisis.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Mihawk noticed Trafalgar Law standing a bit of a ways down the hallway, probably waiting for him. He raised one pale index finger, indicating for the younger man to wait for a moment. When Law nodded his head, the swordsman reluctantly returned his golden stare back towards the pink-feathered warlord, who had a large frown plastered over his usual smirk.

Squatting so that he was face to face with the hawk-eyed man, the blonde's imposing form cast a dark shadow that seemed to fill the hallway along with his oppressive aura. As he was looming over the other man, Doflamingo's grim face matched his dark tone. "Hawkeye, I don't very much appreciate you absconding away with _my_ little Law."

Narrowing his eyes, Mihawk replied in an equally grave voice. "Doflamingo, Trafalgar is quite capable of making his own decisions, and I do not believe that you own him. Perhaps your underground activities have tainted your logic."

For a moment, Doflamingo's true rage was visible. It was the tightening of the facial muscles, stiffening of the shoulders accompanied by a drawn in breath, and the dangerous glint behind those sunglasses. Mihawk's hand started to itch for his blade on his back, but he was stopped by the slow, dark, chuckling that seemed to ooze out of the feathered man like viscous oil.

"….I always get what I want in the end, Hawkeye," the blonde uttered in a low tone. As a sinister smile, full of teeth, stretched across his tan face, Doflamingo abruptly stood up once more. He was about to walk away when the shorter man thrust a wrapped package into his chest. Taking the present-like object, which was covered in brown paper with a plum colored bow on top, he looked from it to Mihawk skeptically. "What is this?"

Narrowing his eyes, Mihawk grated out, "The Fleet Admiral demanded that we set our childish squabble behind us, so here." Not bothering to wait for the flamingo's reply, the master swordsman took the opportunity to slip around the massive pink-feathered man, walking past the taller man with ease. Although his escape was swift, it was not swift enough, because he could still hear the words of Doflamingo calling out to him.

"Don't think that just because that Red Dog ordered us to settle our dispute that this is over! But thanks for the gift anyway Hawky! Fufufufuuuu!"

-X+O+X-

Trafalgar Law was leaning against one of the base walls that happened to be safely out of the way of any construction and scurrying marines. 'I wonder what Doflamingo and Hawkeye are talking about', he mused, kicking at a stray bit of rubble so that it scuttled across the polished floors. Somehow the surgeon did not like the idea of those two being anywhere together.

To pass the time while he was waiting, Law started counting the number of times he could make a marine screech or run off in fright. However, don't be fooled. He was definitely using his time wisely. This opportunity was a good chance to practice his evil eye along with his other demented expressions. If a marine fainted it was worth extra points. So far he was up to twenty two successful scares and four faints. There was one incident of urination so far, but he had not decided how many points that was worth yet.

Rapid footfalls, along with a menacing presence coming in his direction, put a pause on Law's _experiment._ Law barely had time to register that it was Hawkeye Mihawk running towards him, when the older man wrapped a pale hand around his upper arm and started pulling him along.

"Run," Mihawk ordered, his golden stare leaving no room for argument.

The surgeon staggered at first, but managed to right himself and match the master swordsman's run. Law wasn't going to bother to ask the older man why they were running, because the look on the hawk-eyed man's shadowed face said it all. They stormed down the hallways with unholy speed, causing marines to dive out of the duo's path, as construction dust wafted up in their wake.

-X+O+X-

Bursting through the large double doors, the two warlords skidded to a halt at the front of the marine headquarters. They both hunched over, hands on their knees, to try and catch their breaths. They had to run for at least five kilometers just to escape that gigantic white granite building.

Elderly officials and marine officers gave the dark-haired pair strange looks, but continued walking along the cobblestone paths. There were several networks of these stone walkways along the lush grass lawn, and they all lead to the new headquarters. Gardens, filled with lively birdsong, seasonal flora, and fluttering butterflies, dotted the expansive courtyard.

Suddenly, an ear-piercing screech filled the air, turning everyone's heads towards the bleached building. It was a loud chilling howl that made sweat run down every witnesses back, except for the two warlords standing outside. The words of this demonic scream were heard clearly across the entire island.

"FUUCCKKKIINNNGGG _**PIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSS**__! HAWKEYE AND LAW! YOU ARE SO DEAD!"_

The aforementioned twosome looked at each other, piercing gold meeting intense silver. They continued staring for a long moment, their blank faces mirroring one another, and betraying no emotion. Then without warning, both of them erupted in a fit of maniacal laughter.

Their plan had been a crushing success.

Many of the elders walking along the garden paths grimaced in distaste at the clearly insane duo. Wisely, they chose to walk away, leaving the two warlords to continue their devilish cackling. Later the elderly marine's would ask themselves why such an incident had occurred, but the only explanation offered to them was "Pirates."

-X+O+X-

Law walked alongside Mihawk down the granite steps, which lead to the harbor, feeling strangely satisfied. He had just gotten out of one of the most tedious meetings he had ever experienced in his young life, and had been assigned to deal with some cult group by the world government. But, he was feeling…happy.

Yes, that warm toasty feeling that settled in his chest and filled his belly was definitely happiness, along with a certain kind of contentment. Teaming up with Mihawk to ruffle up Doflamingo's feathers had boosted his spirits higher than they had been in a long time. Those high pitched flamingo shrieks were music to his ears. Also, he would get the chance to work with the hawk-eyed man again, even if it was due to a stupid mission. Law's lips slowly curved into a familiar smirk as he let his thoughts wander.

"Oiiiii~! Trafal-kid! _Oiiii~!"_

When Law's smirk dropped off his face, it was with the equivalence of dropping a precious piece of fine china on the floor; his peace was disturbed and he was pissed. The doctor's dark eyebrow twitched violently as he slowly turned his head to the source of the call. Squinting against the setting sun, Law's gray eyes looked up to the top of a grassy hillock that gradually sloped towards the sandy beach of the harbor. There, hung out on a clothes line, was the marine instructor.

Monkey D. Garp, whose limp form was flopping in the wind, grinned widely as he waved his cloth-like arm in farewell. Vice Admiral Tsuru's devil fruit powers had left him squeaky clean, and boneless as a fresh piece of laundry. After a moment's hesitation, Law grudgingly raised his arm in farewell. However, he immediately dropped his hand when he saw Vice Admiral Vergo hanging out to dry next to Garp.

"Goodbye, Law," Vergo called, remaining completely stone-faced.

Scowling at first, Law's lips slowly curved back into a malevolent smirk. As he continued walking down the stairway, the doctor raised a tattooed hand, extending the middle finger apart from his fist. Law fixed Vergo with a stare while he mouthed the words 'Fuck you.'

Law's actions were awarded with loud angry screeches from the dark-haired vice admiral. Vergo flailed his floppy limbs in blind fury. Garp's guffawing at the action only succeeded in making things worse. However, things evidently got much worse when Vice Admiral Tsuru suddenly appeared, brandishing a carpet beater and looking rather serious.

Turning his head so he could face forward again, Law resumed his smirking once more as the undignified screeches of the two men on the clothesline filled his ears.

Mihawk, who had watched all of this in silence, couldn't resist his own small smirk that pulled at the corner of his lips. This new warlord was proving to be amusing. At least this young man was not overly annoying and proved to be a useful ally against Doflamingo. Still, a part of the master swordsman was not looking forward to this mission.

As the only warlord without devil fruit abilities, a part Mihawk could not help but feel that the others hadn't worked as hard as him to achieve his power and status. Their power was handed to them in the form of a cursed fruit. But for Mihawk, years of training had gone into his swordplay and into honing his body. However, his fellow warlords were different. Without their powers they were just men, or a woman in Boa Hancock's case. They had not undergone the same rigorous training and study that was necessary to be a quality swordsman.

In this world filled with devil fruit powers, swordplay was starting to look like a dead art. It was the equivalent of a peasant with a spear trying to strike down an immortal. Becoming the world's greatest swordsman suddenly had meant so much more. His skill with a blade was a testimony. It showed that ordinary men could in fact rival a devil fruit user in power, if they trained hard enough. Trafalgar would have to prove that he was different from the typical devil fruit users, whom solely rely on their cursed abilities, before he truly received Mihawk's respect.

-X+O+X-

They were crossing the sand covered beach, and just about to reach the docks, when a low thrum filled the air. Law and Mihawk puzzled over the sound, which was rapidly growing louder and now distinguishable enough that they could hear a gallop-like pattern. Mihawk was the first one to see the cause of the enigmatic patter approaching, but the source of the sound was already too close, and moving at inhuman speeds, to be stopped. There was only enough reaction time for his golden eyes to slightly widen as a flash of white streaked across his vision.

"CAPTAIN!"

*THUD*

Law was sent hurtling into the ground, spraying sand around him from the force of the collision. 'Why does shit keeping flying into me,' his inner self screamed in irritation.

Together he and the mass of white had landed hard onto the beach, the tattooed warlord being the one to take most of the impact. As Law's back made contact with the ground, the air in his lungs made a rapid exit that was accompanied by a high pitched wheeze. Before the doctor even had the chance to recover, he was being lifted up by two muscular furry arms and into a crushing hug.

"Captain," the furry white mass happily cried, squeezing the lanky doctor against his chest tightly, as it swayed side to side in uncontained merriment. The furry creature continued to ignore the hawk-eyed man's tight-lipped stare, enrapturing itself with the safe return of his captain.

"Bepo," Law managed to squeak out from his crushed chest, gasping for a hint of air.

"I'm so happy to see you came back safely Captain!" Bepo continued his powerful bear hug, not noticing how his captain's face started to turn blue. He even failed to notice how the hawk-eyed man, who had broken out in a cold sweat, beads of perspiration starting to form on his pallid face.

"Bepo…I warned you that if you continue to hug me in such a way it will dislocate my spine and-"

*CRA-CRACK*

Bepo froze in his movements as his captain's body went limp as a ragdoll in his arms. When he looked down, the white bear gasped as he realized Law's gray eyes had rolled into the back of his head. "EEYYAAHHHGGHH! CAPTAIN I'M SORRY! PLEASE DON'T DIE," Bepo screamed, streams of tears and snot running down his furred face. He set the pirate captain down on the beach, using his newly freed paws to hold each side of his furry head, as he screeched in panic.

Groaning both his annoyance and pain, Law raised a tattooed hand to silence the bear, effectively ending his first mate's panic. "Bepo…as a part of my crew you should know the true dangers of spinal dislocation. So would you please go back to the ship? I have work to do."

"But captain! Your back," Bepo tried, wringing his paws in worry. "How can I leave you when you are injured, especially when you are with-" Bepo clenched his jaws shut, glancing towards Mihawk as he refrained from speaking the hawk-eyed man's name out loud. Turning his coal black eyes back to his captain he quickly finished, "Without me or the crew to help you!?"

"Do you doubt my medical abilities? I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own back. Go back to the ship _now_." Law narrowed his eyes in warning, leaving no more room for argument.

Tears started pouring out of the white-bears eyes in a surprisingly powerful flow. Sniffing up a large globule of snot, Bepo sobbed, "B-But captain, I j-just wanted to b-be with you! *sob* Why won't you let me help y-you *sniff* I just wanted to be there for you, but I just ended up hurting you instead! Uhgh! Uwaahhahaha!" The bear continued wailing, his face titled to the sky as rivulets of tears streamed down his fury face.

Law slowly dragged a tattooed hand down his face, trying not to completely loose his cool in front of his childhood hero. If he suffered any further embarrassment, there was no doubt in the surgeon's mind that he would spontaneously combust on the spot. If the latter failed, then someone would be dead long before this mission over with. But he hated to see his first mate like this, so he would have to weave his next words carefully.

"Bepo…look at me Bepo!" He waited until the bear stopped crying into his furry paws so that those shimmering black puppy bear eyes could stare at him. Ignoring the sudden twinge in his heart, Law continued, "If you want to help me, stay with the ship and look after the crew. I'm leaving on a very important mission with Mister Hawkeye-ya. So I _need_ you to do your best without me. Can you do that for me Bepo?"

Snapping out of his depression, the meek bear jumped up, clenching his paws in sudden anticipation. "Of course I can do that Captain! You can always depend on me! I'll make sure this ship and our crew is safe! I'll do my best so that you won't have to worry!"

"Good. Now go Bepo." Law watched as his furry crewmate made a mad dash for this ship, disappearing into the hatch like a good little bear. Only when he was certain that his first mate would not be coming back for another goodbye, the surgeon allowed himself a deep sigh.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Mihawk watched as the strange bear humanoid, which had nearly killed or at least seriously injured his own captain, scampered off. "Let's get going, Trafalgar." The master swordsman started to walk off, but when he didn't hear his young counterpart move to follow, he stopped, glaring over his shoulder at the doctor, who had managed to get this his knees, but had his forehead kissing the sand. He watched as one of Law's tattooed hands grabbed at his trembling back, the other one shakily scrabbling at the sand in obvious pain.

Glancing to the left and right to confirm that they were alone, the hawk-eyed man quietly stalked back over to the younger warlord. As he came within arms reach of the doctor, he squatted, titling his head to try and get a look at Trafalgar's face. Inwardly steeling himself, Mihawk internally struggled for a moment, but eventually mustered up the will to ask, "Do you need… help?" Even the master swordsman was starting to realize the amount of times he had gone out of his way to help this man was odd, and completely out of his normal range of reactions. Still, something inclined him to lend a hand.

"Just…I'm fine." Law gritted his teeth, barely muffling a groan, as he tried to wave off the man. The sudden movement sent a shockwave of pain rippling up his spine. It was starting to feel like he had really dislocated his spine, or maybe the vertebrae had been squeezed out of alignment. The doctor shuddered at the thought of the possible cartilage disk damage.

'The denial is strong in this one,' Mihawk mused. "I suppose I will leave you here then." The master swordsman knew it was an empty threat, but he was definitely not the type to give pep talks. In order to get this mission over with, he needed to follow the government's instruction, which meant bringing Trafalgar along with him, willing or not.

Law gingerly turned his head, looking up at the passive expression of indifference on the older man's face. 'I know he knows that I know that he knows he can't go on this mission without me - because of obligations to the government - not to me - so why the hollow statement?' Hawkeye had not even moved from his position of crouching beside him.

Out of anxiety, the dark-haired surgeon searched for a good excuse to stall, as he tried to get over the pain in his back, Law suddenly asked, "How are we going to travel to Madrid?"

His ship was suddenly not an option. Part of him was afraid of what the other man would think, seeing that there was his crew to consider. They were no doubt invaluable nakama, but they would doubtlessly find a way to embarrass him. Also, being trapped in a submarine, with the greatest swordsman bearing witness to his private life, would likely end in a painful scenario. The last thing he needed was Bepo perspiring anywhere near Hawkeye, or god forbid, launching his sweaty self at the master swordsman. Sometimes that bear was more of a sadist than he was with his 'Share the suffering policy.'

"My vessel, of course," Mihawk replied, unwavering confidence underlining his words. It was like there wasn't another option up in the first place. So much for stalling. "We don't have much time, so I will be taking over your back restoring efforts."

Gray eyes widening at the words, Law stiffened when the master swordsman swiftly stood up. Given his semi-paralyzed state, and the sudden stoppage of his heart, the doctor yelled in surprise when both of his wrist were grabbed, pulling his arms behind his back. With no support from his hand or arms, Law's face was pressed into the sand as a booted foot was placed squarely on his back.

Suddenly the full weight of the situation dawned on Law. In mildly concealed panic, he frantically rambled,"Oi! Hawkeye-ya! That is not the proper way to realign a spine! If you don't straighten the spinal column correctly, than recovering from the results of permanent nerve and muscle damage would be slim to none! It could displace or pinch the cartilage discs of the vertebral column, possibly cutting off neural pathways, or even mass nerve cell death! Every single nerve of the human body originates and travels along the spine and- AGHHHH!"

*CRAAAACCK*

As he pushed with one his feet against the doctors back, Mihawk had pulled on both of the Trafalgar's arms towards himself, straightening out the others spine despite the deluge of medical babbling that centered on every reason for him not to. Feeling the muscle tension in the young man's wrists completely vanish, the swordsman blinked as Trafalgar remained unresponsive. Slowly he lowered the doctor to the ground, moving to kneel beside the other. "Trafalgar?..."

Groaning in response, Law managed to turn his head enough to look up at the golden eyes that were giving him a questioning stare. 'This is going to be a rough trip, isn't it?' Carefully Law picked himself up, gradually moving from his hands and knees and onto his own two feet once more.

As he removed he nodachi from his back, the doctor didn't miss the sudden flicker in those golden eyes. Part of Law's consciousness liked the idea of a practice match or a duel with the man who had been his inspiration. But, while a sword match with the greatest was tempting, it would have to wait until his back was sufficiently recovered.

Planting the sheathed sword into the sand, Law leaned heavily against it for support. Finally turning his tired eyes to his older counterpart, the tattooed man grudgingly mumbled something under his breath that sounded like a thank you mixed in with a few profanities.

"Lead the way, Hawkeye-ya."

Hiding his smirk by turning around on his heel, Mihawk wordlessly began walking towards his vessel.

-X+O+X-

Although it took longer than it should have, due to Law's hobbling, the pair of warlords finally reached Mihawk's ship. For a moment Law just stood there with a tightlipped frown, skeptically staring at the coffin shaped vessel. A single chair dominated the center of the small craft. In other words, it was clearly a one person vessel.

Without so much a glance towards the other man, Mihawk stepped on the craft, promptly placing himself onto his designated seat. Folding his arms over his chest, the hawk-eyed man gave the frowning surgeon a blank stare.

"…"

"…"

Law abruptly turned on his heel, so that his back was towards the older man. 'Why is his ship so fucking cool dammit! But, there is only one seat… which Mister Hawkeye-ya is currently occupying…but maybe… there is his lap...' Smacking a hand over his face, Law cursed under his breath as the telltale feeling of a blush crept its way into his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, the doctor willed away the blush and turned back towards Mihawk, who was still staring.

With a heavy sigh, Law warily approached the coffin-like vessel. He slowly placed one foot at a time, adjusting to the swaying waves rolling underneath, until he stood in front of the hawk-eyed man. Glaring out of the corner of his eye, Law abruptly sat down on the deck, moving to make himself comfortable on the floor of the vessel. After a bit of careful squirming, he adjusted himself so his injured back was flat on the bottom of the vessel, along with his long legs going over the side, due to the lack of room.

However, he was still not very comfortable on the hard wooden floor. 'I miss Bepo…he is always so soft and warm and…' *sigh* It was too early to be missing his crew, even though that white bear happened to make a very good pillow. Gray eyes lighting up with a sudden idea, Law removed his hat, quickly running his tattooed fingers through his ebony locks to eliminate any signs of hat hair, and placed the spotted headwear behind his head for a makeshift pillow. 'Much better,' Law thought, smirking in contentment.

Mihawk narrowed his eyes, looking away from the deranged doctor lying at his feet. Moving his golden gaze towards the horizon, the master swordsman frowned, lost in contemplative silence. 'This is going to be a long trip, isn't it?

-X+O+X-

**Sub Authors Note:**

Mad props to my friend Jitt, who patiently looked over this insane chapter!

Plot finally starts to thicken the next chapter ;)

Also, thanks for the reviews mates :)


	5. Chapter 5

Unorthodox Collaboration

Ch.5

-X+O+X-

A single deep crimson leaf was caressed over the ocean on a tepid breeze. Both the deceased foliage and the change of air temperature spoke of the fall island that appeared as a fuzzy gray mass on the horizon. A pale hand reached up to pluck the leaf out of the air. Its stem was twisted between a thumb and forefinger, as the hawk-eyed man they belonged to gazed at it contemplatively.

'The trademark of the city of red autumn- Madrid.' Dracule 'Hawkeye' Mihawk stared at the leaf for a moment longer, before releasing it once more into the breeze. He watched as the tiny bit of red was instantly snatched by the wind. It rose into the bright cerulean sky stretching overhead, which was smeared with white wispy clouds. The little bit of red was free to roam the world. Somehow it reminded him of someone.

Mihawk sighed through his nose heavily, trying to clear his mind before he could dwell any further on past memories. Solitude was the way of life he had lived for a long time, at least until that annoying cotton candy brain had appeared at his castle, along with his new green-haired student. God knows he had to have patience dealing with their company. Only one of them had actually verbally claimed the desire to defeat him, but Mihawk was pretty sure that both of them were trying to kill him.

Now there was this young doctor to deal with. In all honesty, Mihawk wasn't sure what to think of him, at least not yet. He studied the sleeping face, noting the dark marks underneath each eye. 'Either he does not sleep enough, or it is a side effect of drugs. After our forced time together, I am sure the answer will make itself clear.' Doctors usually knew better than to abuse their own products; they knew the devastating side effects painfully well. They were the ones to see to effects firsthand.

-X+O+X-

"Doctor Trafalgar. Wake up."

Along with a deep velvet voice sounding in his ears, something gentle poked the side of his rips, nudging him into full wakefulness. Law flinched, eyelids fluttered open, filling his vision with the bright blue of the heavens. Quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his hands, Law gingerly sat up, his back groaning a dull protest. Blinking back the intense light, which meant he must have slept the entire night, the tattooed warlord squinted at Mihawk irritably. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Mihawk chose to avoid answering the doctor's question, and stood up from his chair. He wasn't about so say, 'because you looked too peaceful,' or, 'you looked like you needed the sleep.' Instead, he announced, "We are here." With a sure step, the master swordsman got off the vessel and onto a wooden pier he had docked his coffin-like vessel at. Thick ropes coiled around the worn out pillars and the occasional crab and dead fish littered the dock. Several hand woven fishing nets lay drying out in the sun along the planks. Fallen leafs saturated in numerous shades of red danced across the aged pier.

Law blinked once, and turned his head towards the city, his gray eyes widening at the impressive sight.

From the glistening expanse of clear cyan water, its smooth glass-like surface sprinkled with bright red autumn leaves, a beach of grayish white sand rose up to wrap around the base of the island. The side they had docked on was obviously some sort of fishing area. There were hundreds of small, ancient, looking fishing boats made from golden oak and adorned with ribbed scarlet sails. Compared to the aged and abandoned area they were standing at, the town was lively. Sprawling further up from the beach, and half shadowed by a mountain, terracotta and brick buildings were splayed outward in a complex network of streets, shops, and houses. Clothes lines, hanging colorful fabrics on their strings, stretched over the cobble stone paths like bright flags.

Thanks to the steady incline of the land, the town forum could be seen, even from this great distance. It was a broad circle, the heart of the town, and the center for trade. All of the main roadways seemed to lead away from it. A particularly large one headed into the direction of the sea towards a busier and well-kept harbor. Several vendors had set up their carts, shops, and stalls along this roadway. If there wasn't a building or a shop set along the roads, there were great big maple trees, all with deep red leaves.

Looking further up, there were a few terraces stretching across the farmlands near the base of the mountain. Water in these farmland patches reflected the bright noon light, hinting that they were most likely rice patties. A brown path could be seen winding through all of the farm land, leading up to one massive church erupting out of the mountainside. It was a faded red, almost a warm pink, with hints of green at its sides, and adorned with several spires, the tallest bearing a church bell and a large cross on the tip of its spire. Above it all was the white capped mountain, its peak sharply sloping up to pierce the heavens. Only a god could dream of climbing such a perilously steep summit.

Mihawk watched as Trafalgar Law's mouth slightly gaped open, gray iris' sparkling with a sense of awe that the older man found amusing. When he had first set eyes on Madrid, he too had been impressed. He probably had made a green faced expression not to different from his younger counterpart. That was a long time ago; around a time when he had admittedly been younger, and far more unworldly.

"Come along."

The deep voice of the master swordsman pulled the doctor from his sightseeing. Law quickly scrambled onto the pier, the ancient boards creaking underneath of his booted feet. His back ache was long forgotten. Just the thought of adventuring into a new territory with 'Hawkeye' Mihawk put energy behind his steps and quickened his pulse.

-X+O+X-

Two warlord's trekking through the streets of any public place of course turned some heads, but the people of Madrid were a lively bunch and quickly continued with their own business. Still, some of the more adventuress outlaws and pirates hanging around edged their hands near their blades at the thought of taking down a warlord or two. The wiser of the troublemakers made the decision to stay away from the darkly cloaked men, each with two giant swords on their backs. Needless to say, the pair was acquiring quite a bit of attention that day.

'We will have to do something about that,' Mihawk mused as he navigated through the crowds. He could feel the doctor sticking close to his back, because the shear amount of people prevented them from walking side by side. That and he was the more experienced one here. Hopefully having the younger warlord stick close to him would prevent Trafalgar from getting lost. His involvement with losing a certain haramaki-wearing fool on the frequent occasion made him wary.

Trafalgar Law was noticing they were getting much unwanted attention as well. It would be bad if their target took notice of them before they found them, or even identified the supposed cult. 'Perhaps a disguise is in order.' They always seemed to work so well. Also, the both of them had been made to sign an agreement form. It would assure they would not unnecessarily, or deliberately, scare the living shit out of any civilians or residents, in Admiral Kizaru's own words of course.

They continued to walk down a quieter cobble stone path, following a quiet aqueduct of glittering clear water with only the occasional crimson leaf disturbing its smooth surface. A cool breeze blew over the water, rustling the leaves of the maple trees and the occasional grand oak mixed in. The sun sat directly overhead, filling the autumn climate with a pleasurable level of warmth. Vendors and the shopping crowd kept to the main streets, allowing the two warlords to walk side by side comfortably.

"Hawkeye-ya, where are we going?"

"A Hotel."

'H-hotel…?' Law nearly tripped over a jutting cobblestone that stuck a bit too far away from the others, but he was light enough on his feet that he swiftly recovered. 'No… it makes sense, he wouldn't want a hotel for _that _kind of reason…right? It isn't like he is a pervert like Doflamingo.' They probably would be forced to stay for a long time considering the nature of their mission, so having somewhere to sleep was necessary.

Mihawk noticed the surgeon's slight misstep, but he chose to ignore it. However, he was not able to ignore the low gurgle that sounded from the young warlord. Trafalgar flinched at the sound, but other than that made no comment. Several moments passed in silence, only the consistent intervals of gurgling that seemed so out of place disturbed the peace. Was it just the hawkeyed man's imagination, or were they getting louder? Even the doctor was starting emit low wavelengths of discomfort from the noises.

Finally Mihawk stopped in the middle of the path, sighing through his nose as he placed a hand over his face. Trafalgar came to a halt a second later. The master swordsman watched as the younger man's expression briefly flickered over into one of surprise before reigning back in into his passive stare. Resisting the urge to grimace, Mihawk uttered as casual as possible, "Are you…hungry?"

Law immediately looked towards the ground. The bill of his spotted hat shaded his reddening face. Did he make the greatest swordsman on the Grand Line stop because of him? That thought alone was purely maddening. Goddamn the basic human needs!

"…no."

*_**gurgle**_*

'Fucking hell -dammit- goddamned - traitorous- intestinal noises!'

"…when is the last time you ate."

'When is the last time I…_what_?!' Law looked up at the older man in surprise. A pair of golden eyes was narrowed at him, giving him a stern look. Suddenly he felt like he was being scolded. 'Awkward…' Actually, Law had to think about that question. Raising a tattooed hand, Law slowly unfolded his fingers as he counted the days. "Ehhhh… four days ago… It was lunch… or maybe dinner?" He couldn't really recall. Some days Law got so caught up in his medical work that he lost sight of things like eating.

Oh god if looks could kill. Mihawk's face had instantly turned darkly serious. If Boa Hancock was famous for kicking small rabbits aside, then 'Hawkeye' Mihawk would be famous for killing adorable baby bunnies that practiced world peace with one angry look.

"You…" Something like annoyance flashed over the master swordsman's face, the harbinger to the torrent that was sure to unfold. "We are stopping for lunch."

'I am so dead and….say_ wha_?' Law stood rooted in dumbstruck shock for a good ten seconds, so he had to run to catch up the older man, who was already moving towards their unknown destination.

-X+O+X-

The two warlords had found a quiet bistro near a residential area that was out of the way of the shopping crowd. Only a few small children were playing on the cobblestone path curving around the buildings. They had stopped at a small family owned restaurant and it was relatively empty thanks to the odd time of day; too late for lunch, but too early for dinner. Just a few ancient looking fishermen sat reading the newspaper and enjoying their spiced drinks, occasionally laughing and giving advice to the boys playing a game in the street. The two warlords, sitting across from each other at one of the many round wire tables dotting the outdoor patio, went vastly ignored.

Trafalgar Law frowned at the menu in his hands, glaring at the swirling letters than formed hardly legible words due to the overly fancy scripture. Not that he would have been able to read the menu anyway. All of the food items appeared to be in some strange language. There was also the pressing issue that this restaurant only appeared to serve alcoholic beverages. Law admittedly may have a bit of a problem when it came to alcohol, but he wouldn't risk looking like a lightweight punk in front of his hero. He briefly looked up from the folded piece of paper at Mihawk, who was placing his hat in the empty chair at their tiny outdoor table. Law caught himself ogling at the hawkeyed man's spikey raven hair a moment before he remembered to remove his own hat.

Mihawk inwardly smirked in amusement as he watched the doctor mimic him yet again. The doctor leaned over to the side, placing his spotted hat into the remaining empty chair. One of Law's tattooed hands quickly ruffled the ebony locks to rid himself of any hat hair. Clicking of heels had the older man's attention redirected to the waitress making her way over to them.

Her long tan legs slinked through the patio furniture with cat like elegance despite her wide set hips. A short skirt, white blouse, auburn hair pulled back in a long braided ponytail, and dark apron completed her look. She came to halt before them, popping a piece of lime green bubble gum with a loud snap as she flipped open a notebook to take their order. "Heya huns, I'm Trisha and I'll be taking yah order today," she said silky, pushing back her bangs as she directed her green hued gaze at Mihawk. She leaned forward as if to hear his order, but it was obvious she was displaying the dark space between her large breasts in blatant flirtation. "What would yah like sir?"

Law hid his face of disgust behind his menu. 'Does she realize he is like, twice her age? And put those boobs back in your shirt. Would it kill you to use more than two buttons, damned skank. I hope you develop severe scoliosis from the weight of your ridiculous mammary tissues.'

Mihawk, completely ignoring the teenager practically overflowing out of her loosely buttoned blouse, voiced, "I'll have your locally made spiced wine and a steak, well-done, if you please." Without so much as glancing at the waitress, he held the menu out to her expectantly while staring at the street with a bored expression.

The brunette waitress's chest puffed up a little in indignation, but she calmly took the menu from him and redirected her efforts on the other gorgeous man sitting at the table. Pursing her red painted lips in anticipation, Trisha sidled up close to Law, nearly leaning over the table, and looked at the tattooed man through her lashes as she practically purred, "And how about you sweetie? See anything…you like?"

With a completely stone faced expression in place, Law decided to just screw trying to read the damned menu and get this harlot out of his face. He could just smell the Trichomoniasis on her- and no, it wasn't just a doctor thing that led him to that conclusion. Somehow the named Trisha suited her oh so very well. Holding up the menu to their eye level, Law settled for pointing at a random item instead of trying to pronounce the damned name. Hopefully whatever he ordered would not have any bread. Oh how Law hated bread…

Trisha blinked once, her neatly groomed eyebrows elevating slightly as a small smile curled the corners of her mouth. Humming a sharp note to herself, she quickly scrawled the order down and then asked, "And what wouldja' like ta drink?"

'Fuck my life.' Law sighed. He was hoping the dumb skank would forget and leave without bringing him a drink. At least then the doctor would have an excuse for not drinking. Adverting his gaze to the street, he voiced, "The same as him," while gesturing at Mihawk.

Not enjoying the lack of attention, Trisha snapped her gum one last time and said, "Yer orders will be out shortly." Both of the warlords didn't so much as spare her a parting glance, much to her increasing annoyance. She disappeared into the kitchen without another word. Deep laughter from the men cooking in the kitchen could be heard behind the swinging doors along with the waitress's angry hisses.

Eventually a young man with curly ginger hair came over balancing a tray. Once he was at their table, he promptly sat the two drinks and a pitcher down in front of the warlords. Both of the glasses had a couple of cinnamon sticks standing in the red wine, and slices of freshly cut citrus pressing against the clear sides. The waiter nervously wiped his hands on his beige apron, giving the two men a halfhearted smile. Dipping his head in farewell, he quickly left for the kitchen, tripping over several chairs before he finally made it.

Law stared at the drink skeptically, eyes lingering on the slices of colorful citrus in the drink. It certainly looked appealing. Mihawk had grabbed an abandoned newspaper from an adjacent table and was drinking his like it was water. Only when the hawkeyed man was refilling his glass did the doctor realize he was staring. 'Dammit.'

To keep himself busy, and not stare at his fellow warlord any more, Law also picked up one of the local newspapers, looking at the front page headline with mild interest.

"_Regular Disappearances Continue, no end in sight to the local mystery. Local authorities have turned to the World Government for aid regarding the mysterious disappearances, so far all being local women and one male foreigner. No further connections have been made, baffling the town authorities. Madrid continues to wait for aid regarding the terrible tragedy, and eagerly pray for the safe return of their beloved townswomen."_

-X+O+X-

A darkly cloaked figure lurked in the shadows of an always, blending in with the ease of another brick in the wall. From the poorly lit space, he watched the two warlords sitting at the café table unnoticed by the rest of the world. Slowly he raised his mini transponder snail that was mounted on his wrist to his mouth. "Sir. Two warlords have arrived. How would you like me to proceed?"

The poor signal on the other side of the transponder signal took a moment to adjust before a monotone voice manage to come through."…*crackle* *hiss* …Continue to observe. But do not be seen…"

A low groan from the speaker, and grinding screech, sounded in the background, followed my many men shouting at each other. There was also the echoing sound of metal banging against metal. The mini transponder snail gave a brief expression of pain before settling into a blank expression. "Watch their activities and report back to me."

"Yes sir."

-X+O+X-

"Yah orders are ready sirs," Trisha suddenly announced, setting their meals in front of them with a loud clatter. She snapped her bubble gum loudly and gave the two dark haired warlords one last lust filled look. "If yah need anythin' jus lemme know," she purred over her shoulder, slinking her way back through the patio tables to another customer.

Folding his newspaper back up, and placing it to the side, Mihawk drank in the sight of a charbroiled, thickly cut, slab of meat adorning his plate. Dark sauce dribbled off the sides and onto the bed of grilled onions the steak was lying on. 'This looks half decent.' Satisfied with the quality of his own meal, the master swordsman looked up to see what the doctor had ordered.

'…'

'…'

Both of the men stared down at the strange object on Law's plate. It was a rich brown, circular object. Gooey trails of darker brown flowed down what was visible of the sides and onto the white plate. On top of it all was a thick layer of white cream with a cherry placed strategically on top and in the direct center of the object.

'Is that…fucking…_pie_!? It was actually chocolate pie drizzled with hot fudge and of course the layer of cream to top it off. Law could of course feel the spasm beginning in his eye, but that didn't mean he could do anything to stop it. Oda's burning explosive diarrhea level of shit was he pissed. 'Wait, maybe mentioning shit while looking directly at a dark, brown, chocolate pie wasn't such a good idea…'

Mihawk watched as the doctor's face went from one of appalled fixation to a pale sickened expression of disgust. All of the tan was rapidly replaced by a lack of color and then a undertone of sea green. Law's slate gray eyes were locked on the pie in an overly tense glare. 'Apparently that is not what Trafalgar ordered…' Any normal sane person wouldn't order something that disgusted them that much right? Unless the waitress had it out for him…that or the doctor couldn't read the menu.

The children playing in the street cried out suddenly, the only warning before a black and white blur hurtled directly for the two warlords table. Mihawk and Law just had enough time to see the spherical object before it was directly among them. They both flinched back as the strange object landed in the middle of their table, right on Law's pie, sending an explosion of creamy white splattering the two dark-haired men.

All of the kids, who had been running up to go retrieve their soccer ball, skidded to a halt before the pair of warlords.

Slowly blinking his eyes open, the hawkeyed man thumbed away a bit of the small splatters from his pale face and golden eyes. When Mihawk looked around to evaluate the damage, it was evident that the doctor had taken the worst of the hit. The ball had flown in such an angle that most of the cream had been sent in Law's direction.

To the children who had been playing soccer, the screeching of the patio chair as the tattooed man stood up sounded like a death sentence. Trembling, their eyes remained riveted on the surgeon as large dollops of cream slip down his shadowed face and off his goateed jaw. They gulped as their soccer ball was seized from the pie and taken in between each of the man's two tattooed hands.

Mihawk watched the doctor with a raised eyebrow. White splattered cream dripped off his tan features and onto the table and floors, the sound of cream hitting the surfaces loud in the deathly silence. 'Has Trafalgar finally lost it?' Would their suddenly be three or four less children in the world, or would he just scare them shitless? The master swordsman hoped not, or else the government and Akainu would be sure to get on their ass about it.

Muscles in his hand twitched with barely contained rage as Law robotically made his way to the children. The tap of his boots on the cobble stone emitted a deliberate rhythm equal to that of a funeral procession.

The children's eyes slowly tore themselves away from the cream covered soccer ball, and up into the steel irises of the man towering over them. One of the smaller boys in the back of the group whimpered as he suddenly found himself loosing bladder control. This tattooed man looked holy fucking pissed, no seriously deranged, or at least like a murderous psychopath!

Even the old man sitting at the tables had gone quiet, setting aside their drinks and morning papers. All eyes were on Law. What would become of these poor children?

Extending the soccer ball in his hands towards the largest child in the front, a little girl with bright green eyes, Law slowly ground out, "You seemed to have misplaced this."

All of the children nearly had nearly fainted when the gray-eyed man had spoken, and now they watch in wide eyed shock, their jaws hanging open in disbelief, as the deranged man simply returned their ball! The green eyed girl nervously took the cream covered ball from him, the surface sticking to her hands, and stuttered, "T-Thank you m-mister." Slowly smiles crept back onto the children's faces. They were still alive and their ball had been returned to them!

Law turned and walked back to his table, as he neared his seat, he raised his hand and uttered, "Room …Mes," and sat back down in his chair as a loud bang filled the air, followed by wet splatters hitting the pavement.

All of the old man flinched, utterly appalled at the mess in the street.

Mihawk looked at the street with disbelief, although it hardly showed on his blank face. '…Isn't that going a little too far?'

At first when a blue film had overtaken the group of children, they had been too stunned to react, but now they all yelped as a mini explosion occurred at the front of their group.

"Eeek!" The green-eyed girl yelped as the soccer ball exploded in her hands, sending cream splattering all over their group. For a moment all of the children, now decorated in cream, stared at the tattered remains of their ball. When they got over their shock they slowly raised their eyes, only to see the doctor with the biggest smirk on his face.

'What a troll.' All of the children narrowed their eyes at the doctor, deep frowns dominating their faces, before they all turned away in unison, dragging their feet home in disappointment.

Law took his napkin from his chair, and proceeded to wipe all the cream from his face and the small splatters on his bare chest and jacket. 'The government better not complain. It's not like I killed any of those brats. Dear Oda dealing with children is a pain…' Looking up as Mihawk stood from his char, the doctor flinched when the older man roughly scrubbed a napkin over his hair.

Pulling away, Mihawk sat back down and tossed the soiled napkin on the table when he was done. When he saw the subtle blush running over the younger mans shocked face, he innocently shrugged and deadpanned, "There was cream in your hair."

Law frowned and adverted his gaze down to the table, where there was still his shitty pie. Sighing, he propped his elbow on the table and looked out at the street with annoyance. There was a low gurgle in his stomach that needlessly reminded him that he was still hungry. 'This is going to be a long trip isn't it?'

The older warlord stared at his counterpart at first with amusement. Having the wrong item delivered, which the doctor was obviously disgusted by, and only for it to blow up in his face, was hilarious. That and the cream splatted all over his blushing face was…hilariously _suggestive._ But then the master swordsman started to feel… _sorry_ for the young man. Pitiful grumbling from Laws stomach solidified Mihawk's decision to act. Though he would later say it was just so that they could get their work done without having to listen to that noise.

"Trafalgar."

Looking over to the hawkeyed man, Law was stunned when Mihawk was holding out a piece of cut up steak to him on a fork. A frown pulled his mouth down as the doctor concentrated on the little piece of offered meat. Was Dracule Hawkeye Mihawk offering to share his steak with him? 'That pie must have had something weird in it…'

"Eat," Mihawk commanded, extending the steak speared on the fork towards his young companion.

For a moment Law was left speechless. His childhood hero was really going to share food with him? It was like a dream come true. "…Thanks Hawkeye ya," Law said, trying not to look directly into those hawk eyes as he took the fork from the older man. When his hand brushed the paler one in the exchange, the doctor thought his heart would explode due to the erratic pulse thundering through his entire body.

Taking Law's fork, which was not currently being used, Mihawk cut up his own piece of steak. As he chewed on the delicious morsel he couldn't help but notice the doctor's sudden bashfulness. 'Weird.' He also couldn't help but notice the doctor had not taken a single sip of his wine during the entire meal. Now that was really weird in the master swordsman's book. Wine was something special that should be enjoyed.

-X+O+X-

"_DAAAMMMIIIIITTTT !"_

Meanwhile, in the dark recesses of the kitchen basement, Trisha the waitress screamed with unholy fury! Her masterfully constructed plot had been utterly ruined! When that pie had been destroyed by those damned kids, the tattooed man hadn't gotten the chance to eat the pie. She had gone to special lengths to ensure that that chocolate desert would have a very special ingredient. A very special ingredient indeed… good thing it had been a chocolate cake or he might have noticed.

Too bad shit had hit the fan with her plan - or soccer ball in this case.

**Sub Authors Note:**

**Hey guys I am VERY sorry for the late update. But apparently two part time jobs strangled my muse. Now that all the air is rushing back to my head it's spitting out my crazy ideas again. I Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter :). To be continued xD…  
I had to cut this one off since it was getting long.**

**-Love Echo**


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